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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121445">Harriet Evans and the Prisoner of Azkaban</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/themultifandomsb_tch/pseuds/themultifandomsb_tch'>themultifandomsb_tch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Harriet Evans Series [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, gender swap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:07:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>107,304</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23121445</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/themultifandomsb_tch/pseuds/themultifandomsb_tch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Harriet Evans, along with her best friends, Ronnie and Hermes, is about to start her third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harriet can’t wait to get back to school after the summer holidays. (Who wouldn’t if they lived with the horrible Evans’) But when Harriet gets to Hogwarts, the atmosphere is tense. There’s an escaped mass murderer on the loose, and the sinister prison guards of Azkaban have been called in to guard the school...</p><p>Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban but everyone is the opposite gender.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Harriet Evans Series [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Owl Post</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J. K. Rowling.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J. K. Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harriet Evans was a highly unusual girl in many ways. For one thing, she hated the summer holidays more than any other time of year. For another, she really wanted to do her homework but was forced to do it in secret, in the dead of night. And she also happened to be a wizard. It was nearly midnight, and she was lying on her stomach in bed, the blankets drawn right over her head like a tent, a torch in one hand and a large leather-bound book (A History of Magic by Bertius Bagshot) propped open against the pillow. Harriet moved the tip of her eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as she looked for something that would help her write her essay, ‘Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless — discuss.’ The quill paused at the top of a likely looking paragraph. Harriet pushed her round glasses up the bridge of her nose, moved her flashlight closer to the book, and read:</p><p>"Non-magic people (more commonly known as Muggles) were particularly afraid of magic in medieval times, but not very good at recognizing it. On the rare occasion that they did catch a real witch or wizard, burning had no effect whatsoever. The witch or wizard would perform a basic Flame-Freezing Charm and then pretend to shriek with pain while enjoying a gentle, tickling sensation. Indeed, Wendelin the Weird enjoyed being burned so much that she allowed herself to be caught no less than forty-seven times in various disguises."</p><p>Harriet put her quill between her teeth and reached underneath her pillow for her inkbottle and a roll of parchment. Slowly and very carefully she unscrewed the ink bottle, dipped her quill into it, and began to write, pausing every now and then to listen, because if any of the Evans' heard the scratching of her quill on their way to the bathroom, she’d probably find herself locked in the cupboard under the stairs for the rest of the summer.</p><p>The Evans family of Number Four, Privet Drive, was the reason that Harriet never enjoyed her summer holidays. Aunt Verona, Uncle Peter, and their son, Diana, were Harriet's only living relatives. They were Muggles, and they had a very medieval attitude toward magic. Harriet's dead parents, who had been a witch and wizard themselves, were never mentioned under the Evans’ roof. For years, Aunt Verona and Uncle Peter had hoped that if they kept Harriet as downtrodden as possible, they would be able to squash the magic out of her. To their fury, they had not been successful. These days they lived in terror of anyone finding out that Harriet had spent most of the last two years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most they could do, however, was to lock away Harriet's spell books, wand, cauldron, and broomstick at the start of the summer break, and forbid her to talk to the neighbours.</p><p>This separation from her spell books had been a real problem for Harriet, because her teachers at Hogwarts had given her a lot of holiday work. One of the essays, a particularly nasty one about shrinking potions, was for Harriet's least favourite teacher, Professor Prince, who would be delighted to have an excuse to give Harriet detention for a month. Harriet had therefore seized her chance in the first week of the holidays. While Aunt Verona, Uncle Peter, and Diana had gone out into the front garden to admire Aunt Verona's new company car (in very loud voices, so that the rest of the street would notice it too), Harriet had crept downstairs, picked the lock on the cupboard under the stairs, grabbed some of her books, and hidden them in her bedroom. As long as she didn’t leave spots of ink on the sheets, the Evans' need never know that she was studying magic by night.</p><p>Harriet was particularly keen to avoid trouble with her aunt and uncle at the moment, as they were already in an especially bad mood with her, all because she’d received a telephone call from a fellow witch one week into the school vacation.</p><p>Ronnie Prewett, who was one of Harriet's best friends at Hogwarts, came from a whole family of witches. This meant that she knew a lot of things Harriet didn’t, but had never used a telephone before. Most unluckily, it had been Aunt Verona who had answered the call.</p><p>“Verona Evans speaking.”</p><p>Harriet, who happened to be in the room at the time, froze as she heard Ronnie’s voice answer.</p><p>“HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I — WANT — TO — TALK — TO — HARRIET — EVANS!"</p><p>Ronnie was yelling so loudly that Aunt Verona jumped and held the receiver a foot away from her ear, staring at it with an expression of mingled fury and alarm.</p><p>“WHO IS THIS?” she roared in the direction of the mouthpiece. “WHO ARE YOU?”</p><p>“RONNIE — PREWETT!” Ronnie bellowed back, as though she and Aunt Verona were speaking from opposite ends of a football field. “I’M — A — FRIEND — OF — HARRIET'S— FROM — SCHOOL —”</p><p>Aunt Verona's small eyes swiveled around to Harriet, who was rooted to the spot. </p><p>“THERE IS NO HARRIET EVANS HERE!” she roared, now holding the receiver at arm’s length, as though frightened it might explode. “I DON’T KNOW WHAT SCHOOL YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! NEVER CONTACT ME AGAIN! DON’T YOU COME NEAR MY FAMILY!”</p><p>And she threw the receiver back onto the telephone as if dropping a poisonous spider.</p><p>The fight that had followed had been one of the worst ever.</p><p>“HOW DARE YOU GIVE THIS NUMBER TO PEOPLE LIKE — PEOPLE LIKE YOU!” Aunt Verona had roared, spraying Harriet with spit.</p><p>Ronnie obviously realised that she’d gotten Harriet into trouble, because she hadn’t called again. Harriet's other best friend from Hogwarts, Hermes Granger, hadn’t been in touch either. Harriet suspected that Ronnie had warned Hermes not to call, which was a pity, because Hermes, the cleverest wizard in Harriet's year, had Muggle parents, knew perfectly well how to use a telephone, and would probably have had enough sense not to say that he went to Hogwarts.</p><p>So Harriet had had no word from any of her wizarding friends for five long weeks, and this summer was turning out to be almost as bad as the last one. There was just one very small improvement — after swearing that she wouldn’t use her to send letters to any of her friends, Harriet had been allowed to let her owl, Hedwig, out at night. Aunt Verona had given in because of the racket Hedwig made if she was locked in her cage all the time.</p><p>Harriet finished writing about Wendelin the Weird and paused to listen again. The silence in the dark house was broken only by the distant, grunting snores of her enormous cousin, Diana. It must be very late, Harriet thought. Her eyes were itching with tiredness. Perhaps she’d finish this essay tomorrow night…</p><p>She replaced the top of the ink bottle; pulled an old pillowcase from under her bed; put the torch, A History of Magic, her essay, quill, and ink inside it; got out of bed; and hid the lot under a loose floorboard under her bed. Then she stood up, stretched, and checked the time on the<br/>
luminous alarm clock on her bedside table.</p><p>It was one o’clock in the morning. Harriet's stomach gave a funny jolt. She had been thirteen years old, without realising it, for a whole hour.</p><p>Yet another unusual thing about Harriet was how little she looked forward to her birthdays. She had never received a birthday card in her life. The Evans had completely ignored her last two birthdays, and she had no reason to suppose they would remember this one. Harriet walked across the dark room, past Hedwig’s large, empty cage, to the open window. She leaned on the sill, the cool night air pleasant on her face after a long time under the blankets. Hedwig had been absent for two nights now. Harriet wasn’t worried about her: she’d been gone this long before. But she hoped she’d be back soon — she was the only living creature in this house who didn’t flinch at the sight of her.</p><p>Harriet, though still rather small and skinny for her age, had grown a few inches over the last year. Her jet-black hair, however, was just as it always had been — stubbornly untidy, whatever she did to it. The eyes behind her glasses were bright green, and on her forehead, clearly visible through her hair, was a thin scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning.</p><p>Of all the unusual things about Harriet, this scar was the most extraordinary of all. It was not, as the Evans' had pretended for ten years, a souvenir of the car crash that had killed Harriet's parents, because Lesley and Jane Evans had not died in a car crash. They had been murdered, murdered by the most feared Dark Wizard for a hundred years, Lord Voldemort. Harriet had escaped from the same attack with nothing more than a scar on her forehead, where Voldemort’s curse, instead of killing her, had rebounded upon its originator. Barely alive, Voldemort had fled…</p><p>But Harriet had come face-to-face with him at Hogwarts. Remembering their last meeting as she stood at the dark window, Harriet had to admit she was lucky even to have reached her thirteenth birthday.</p><p>She scanned the starry sky for a sign of Hedwig, perhaps soaring back to her with a dead mouse dangling from her beak, expecting praise. Gazing absently over the rooftops, it was a few seconds before Harriet realised what she was seeing.</p><p>Silhouetted against the golden moon, and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lopsided creature, and it was flapping in Harriet's direction. She stood quite still, watching it sink lower and lower. For a split second she hesitated, her hand on the window latch, wondering whether to slam it shut. But then the bizarre creature soared over one of the street lamps of Privet Drive, and Harriet, realising what it was, leapt aside.</p><p>Through the window soared three owls, two of them holding up the third, which appeared to be unconscious. They landed with a soft flump on Harriet's bed, and the middle owl, which was large and gray, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs.</p><p>Harriet recognized the unconscious owl at once — his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Prewett family. Harriet dashed to the bed, untied the cords around Errol’s legs, took off the parcel, and then carried Errol to Hedwig’s cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of thanks, and began to gulp some water. </p><p>Harriet turned back to the remaining owls. One of them, the large snowy female, was her own Hedwig. She, too, was carrying a parcel and looked extremely pleased with herself. She gave Harriet an affectionate nip with her beak as she removed her burden, then flew across the room to join Errol.</p><p>Harriet didn’t recognise the third owl, a handsome tawny one, but she knew at once where it had come from, because in addition to a third package, it was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. When Harriet relieved this owl of its burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched its wings, and took off through the window into the night.</p><p>Harriet sat down on her bed and grabbed Errol’s package, ripped off the brown paper, and discovered a present wrapped in gold and her first ever birthday card. Fingers trembling slightly, she opened the envelope. Two pieces of paper fell out — a letter and a newspaper clipping.</p><p>The clipping had clearly come out of the wizarding newspaper, the Daily Prophet, because the people in the black-and-white picture were moving. Harriet picked up the clipping, smoothed it out, and read:</p><p>"MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE</p><p>Arlene Prewett, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.</p><p>A delighted Mrs. Prewett told the Daily Prophet, “We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest daughter, Beth, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank.”</p><p>The Prewett family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Prewett children currently attend."</p><p>Harriet scanned the moving photograph, and a grin spread across her face as she saw all nine of the Prewett's waving furiously at her, standing in front of a large pyramid. Plump little Mr. Prewett; tall, thin-haired Mrs. Prewett; six daughters; and one son, all (though the black-and-white picture didn’t show it) with flaming-red hair. Right in the middle of the picture was Ronnie, tall and gangling, with her pet rat, Scabbers, on her shoulder and her arm around her little brother, Jerry.</p><p>Harriet couldn’t think of anyone who deserved to win a large pile of gold more than the Prewetts, who were very nice and extremely poor. She picked up Ronnie's letter and unfolded it.</p><p>"Dear Harriet,</p><p>Happy birthday! </p><p>Look, I’m really sorry about that telephone call. I hope the Muggles didn’t give you a hard time. I asked Mum, and she reckons I shouldn’t have shouted.</p><p>It’s amazing here in Egypt. Beth's taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn’t believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Dad wouldn’t let Jerry come in the last one. There were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles who’d broken in and grown extra heads and stuff.</p><p>I couldn’t believe it when Mum won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred galleons! Most of it’s gone on this trip, but they’re going to buy me a new wand for next year."</p><p>Harriet remembered only too well the occasion when Ronnie’s old wand had snapped. It had happened when the car the two of them had been flying to Hogwarts had crashed into a tree on the school grounds.</p><p>"We’ll be back about a week before term starts and we’ll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there?</p><p>Don’t let the Muggles get you down! Try and come to London,</p><p>Ronnie</p><p>P.S. Penelope's Head Girl. She got the letter last week."</p><p>Harriet glanced back at the photograph. Penelope, who was in her seventh and final year at Hogwarts, was looking particularly smug. She had pinned her Head Boy badge to the fez perched jauntily on top of her neat hair, her horn-rimmed glasses flashing in the Egyptian sun.</p><p>Harriet now turned to her present and unwrapped it. Inside was what looked like a miniature glass spinning top. There was another note from Ronnie beneath it.</p><p>"Harriet — this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there’s someone untrustworthy around, it’s supposed to light up and spin. Beth says it’s rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn’t reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But she didn’t realise Frankie and Georgina had put beetles in her soup.</p><p>Bye — Ronnie"</p><p>Harriet put the Pocket Sneakoscope on her bedside table, where it stood quite still, balanced on its point, reflecting the luminous hands of her clock. She looked at it happily for a few seconds, then picked up the parcel Hedwig had brought.</p><p>Inside this, too, there was a wrapped present, a card, and a letter, this time from Hermes.</p><p>"Dear Harriet,</p><p>Ronnnie wrote to me and told me about her phone call to your Aunt Verona. I do hope you’re all right.</p><p>I’m on holiday in France at the moment and I didn’t know how I was going to send this to you — what if they’d opened it at customs? — but then Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for a change. I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (I’ve been getting it delivered; it’s so good to keep up with what’s going on in the wizarding world). Did you see that picture of Ronnie and her family a week ago? I bet she’s learning loads. I’m really jealous — the ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating.</p><p>There’s some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I’ve rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I’ve found out, I hope it’s not too long — it’s two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for.</p><p>Ronnie says she’s going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? Will your aunt and uncle let you come? I really hope you can. If not, I’ll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!</p><p>Love from Hermes</p><p>P.S. Ronnie says Penelope's Head Girl. I’ll bet Penelope's really pleased. Ronnie doesn’t seem too happy about it."</p><p>Harriet laughed as she put Hermes' letter aside and picked up his present. It was very heavy. Knowing Hermes, she was sure it would be a large book full of very difficult spells — but it wasn’t. Herr heart gave a huge bound as she ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black leather case, with silver words stamped across it, reading Broomstick Servicing Kit.</p><p>"Wow, Hermes!” Harriet whispered, unzipping the case to look inside.</p><p>There was a large jar of Fleetwood’s High-Finish Handle Polish, a pair of gleaming silver TailTwig Clippers, a tiny brass compass to clip on your broom for long journeys, and a Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare. </p><p>Apart from his friends, the thing that Harriet missed most about Hogwarts was Quidditch, the most popular sport in the magical world — highly dangerous, very exciting, and played on broomsticks. Harriet happened to be a very good Quidditch player; she had been the youngest person in a century to be picked for one of the Hogwarts House teams. One of Harriet's most prized possessions was her Nimbus Two Thousand racing broom.</p><p>Harriet put the leather case aside and picked up her last parcel. She recognised the untidy scrawl on the brown paper at once: this was from Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper. She tore off the top layer of paper and glimpsed something green and leathery, but before she could unwrap it properly, the parcel gave a strange quiver, and whatever was inside it snapped loudly — as though it had jaws.</p><p>Harriet froze. She knew that Hagrid would never send her anything dangerous on purpose, but then, Hagrid didn’t have a normal person’s view of what was dangerous. Hagrid had been known to befriend giant spiders, buy vicious, three-headed dogs from men in pubs, and sneak illegal dragon eggs into her cabin.</p><p>Harriet poked the parcel nervously. It snapped loudly again. Harriet reached for the lamp on her bedside table, gripped it firmly in one hand, and raised it over her head, ready to strike. Then she seized the rest of the wrapping paper in her other hand and pulled.</p><p>And out fell — a book. Harriet just had time to register its handsome green cover, emblazoned with the golden title The Monster Book of Monsters, before it flipped onto its edge and scuttled sideways along the bed like some weird crab.</p><p>"Uh-oh,” Harriet muttered.</p><p>The book toppled off the bed with a loud clunk and shuffled rapidly across the room. Harriet followed it stealthily. The book was hiding in the dark space under her desk. Praying that the Evans' were still fast asleep, Harriet got down on her hands and knees and reached toward it.</p><p>“Ouch!”</p><p>The book snapped shut on her hand and then flapped past her, still scuttling on its covers. Harriet scrambled around, threw herself forward, and managed to flatten it. Aunt Verona gave a loud, sleepy grunt in the room next door.</p><p>Hedwig and Errol watched interestedly as Harriet clamped the struggling book tightly in her arms, hurried to her chest of drawers, and pulled out a belt, which she buckled tightly around it. The Monster Book shuddered angrily, but could no longer flap and snap, so Harriet threw it down on the bed and reached for Hagrid’s card. </p><p>"Dear Harriet,</p><p>Happy Birthday!</p><p>Think you might find this useful for next year. Won’t say no more here. Tell you when I see you.</p><p>Hope the Muggles are treating you right.</p><p>All the best,</p><p>Hagrid"</p><p>It struck Harriet as ominous that Hagrid thought a biting book would come in useful, but she put Hagrid’s card up next to Ronnie’s and Hermes', grinning more broadly than ever. Now there was only the letter from Hogwarts left.</p><p>Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, Harriet slit open the envelope, pulled out the first page of parchment within, and read:</p><p>"Dear Miss Evans,</p><p>Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King’s Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o’clock.</p><p>Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.</p><p>A list of books for next year is enclosed.</p><p>Yours sincerely,</p><p>Professor M. McGonagall</p><p>Deputy Headmaster"</p><p>Harriet pulled out the Hogsmeade permission form and looked at it, no longer grinning. It would be wonderful to visit Hogsmeade on weekends; she knew it was an entirely wizarding village, and she had never set foot there. But how on earth was he going to persuade Aunt Verona or Uncle Peter to sign the form?</p><p>She looked over at the alarm clock. It was now two o’clock in the morning. </p><p>Deciding that she’d worry about the Hogsmeade form when she woke up, Harriet got back into bed and reached up to cross off another day on the chart she’d made for herself, counting down the days left until her return to Hogwarts. Then she took off her glasses and lay down; eyes open, facing her three birthday cards.</p><p>Extremely unusual though she was, at that moment Harriet Evans felt just like everyone else — glad, for the first time in her life, that it was her birthday.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Uncle Mark's Big Mistake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J. K. Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harriet went down to breakfast the next morning to find the three Evans' already sitting around the kitchen table. They were watching a brand-new television, a welcome-home-for-the-summer present for Diana, who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room. Diana had spent most of the summer in the kitchen, her piggy little eyes fixed on the screen and her five chins wobbling as she ate continually.</p><p>Harriet sat down between Diana and Aunt Verona, a large, beefy woman with very little neck and a lot of hair. Far from wishing Harriet a happy birthday, none of the Evans made any sign that they had noticed Harriet enter the room, but Harriet was far too used to this to care. She helped herself to a piece of toast and then looked up at the reporter on the television, who was halfway through a report on an escaped convict.</p><p>“… the public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately.”</p><p>“No need to tell us she’s no good,” snorted Aunt Verona, staring over the top of her newspaper at the prisoner. “Look at the state of her, the filthy layabout! Look at herhair!”</p><p>She shot a nasty look sideways at Harriet, whose untidy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Aunt Verona. Compared to the woman on the television, however, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, Harriet felt very well groomed indeed.</p><p>The reporter had reappeared.</p><p>“The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today —”</p><p>“Hang on!” barked Aunt Verona, staring furiously at the reporter. “You didn’t tell us where that maniac’s escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!”</p><p>Uncle Peter, who was bony and horse-faced, whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window. Harriet knew Uncle Peter would simply love to be the one to call the hot line number. He was the nosiest woman in the world and spent most of his life spying on the boring, law-abiding neighbours.</p><p>“When will they learn,” said Aunt Verona, pounding the table with her large purple fist, “that hanging’s the only way to deal with these people?”</p><p>“Very true,” said Uncle Peter, who was still squinting into next door’s runner-beans.</p><p>Aunt Verona drained her teacup, glanced at her watch, and added, “I’d better be off in a minute, Peter. Mark's train gets in at ten.” </p><p>Harriet, whose thoughts had been upstairs with the Broomstick Servicing Kit, was brought back to earth with an unpleasant bump.</p><p>“Uncle Mark?” she blurted out. “H-he's not coming here, is he?”</p><p>Uncle Mark was Aunt Verona's sister. Even though he was not a blood relative of Harriet’s (whose father had been Uncle Peter's brother), she had been forced to call him ‘Uncle’ all her life. Uncle Mark lived in the country, in a house with a large garden, where he bred bulldogs. He didn’t often stay at Privet Drive, because he couldn’t bear to leave his precious dogs, but each of his visits stood out horribly vividly in Harriet's mind.</p><p>At Diana's fifth birthday party, Uncle Mark had whacked Harriet around the shins with his walking stick to stop her from beating Diana at musical statues. A few years later, he had turned up at Christmas with a computerised robot for Diana and a box of dog biscuits for Harriet. On his last visit, the year before Harriet started at Hogwarts, Harriet had accidentally trodden on the tail of her favourite dog. Ripper had chased Harriet out into the garden and up a tree, and Uncle Mark had refused to call her off until past midnight. The memory of this incident still brought tears of laughter to Diana's eyes.</p><p>“Mark'll be here for a week,” Aunt Verona snarled, “and while we’re on the subject,” she pointed a fat finger threateningly at Harriet, “we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect him.”</p><p>Diana smirked and withdrew her gaze from the television. Watching Harriet being bullied by Aunt Verona was Diana's favourite form of entertainment.</p><p>“Firstly,” growled Aunt Verona, “you’ll keep a civil tongue in your head when you’re talking to Mark.”</p><p>“All right,” said Harriet bitterly, “if he does when he’s talking to me.”</p><p>“Secondly,” said Aunt Verona, acting as though she had not heard Harriet’s reply, “as Mark doesn’t know anything about your abnormality, I don’t want any — any funny stuff while he’s here. You behave yourself, got me?”</p><p>“I will if he does,” said Harriet through gritted teeth.</p><p>“And thirdly,” said Aunt Verona, her mean little eyes now slits in her great purple face, “we’ve told Mark you attend St. Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.”</p><p>“What?” Harriet yelled. </p><p>“And you’ll be sticking to that story, girl, or there’ll be trouble,” spat Aunt Verona.</p><p>Harriet sat there, white-faced and furious, staring at Aunt Verona, hardly able to believe it. Uncle Mark coming for a week-long visit — it was the worst birthday present the Evans' had ever given her, including that pair of Aunt Verona's old socks.</p><p>“Well, Peter,” said Aunt Verona, getting heavily to her feet, “I’ll be off to the station, then. Want to come along for the ride, Di?”</p><p>“No,” said Diana, whose attention had returned to the television now that Aunt Verona had finished threatening Harriet.</p><p>“Di's got to make herself smart for her uncle,” said Uncle Peter, smoothing Diana's thick blond hair. “Daddy's bought her a lovely new dress.”</p><p>Aunt Verona clapped Diana on her porky shoulder.</p><p>“See you in a bit, then,” she said, and she left the kitchen.</p><p>Harriet, who had been sitting in a kind of horrified trance, had a sudden idea. Abandoning her toast, she got quickly to her feet and followed Aunt Verona to the front door.</p><p>Aunt Verona was pulling on her car coat.</p><p>“I’m not taking you,” she snarled as she turned to see Harriet watching her.</p><p>“Like I wanted to come,” said Harriet coldly. “I want to ask you something.”</p><p>Aunt Verona eyed her suspiciously.</p><p>“Third years at Hog — at my school are allowed to visit the village sometimes,” said Harriet.</p><p>“So?” snapped Aunt Verona, taking her car keys from a hook next to the door.</p><p>“I need you to sign the permission form,” said Harriet in a rush.</p><p>“And why should I do that?” sneered Aunt Verona.</p><p>“Well,” said Harriet, choosing her words carefully, “it’ll be hard work, pretending to Uncle Mark I go to that St. Whatsits…” </p><p>“St. Brutus’s Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys!” bellowed Aunt Verona, and Harriet was pleased to hear a definite note of panic in Aunt Verona’s voice.</p><p>“Exactly,” said Harriet, looking calmly up into Aunt Verona's large, purple face. “It’s a lot to remember. I’ll have to make it sound convincing, won’t I? What if I accidentally let something slip?”</p><p>“You’ll get the stuffing knocked out of you, won’t you?” roared Aunt Verona, advancing on Harriet with her fist raised. But Harriet stood her ground.</p><p>“Knocking the stuffing out of me won’t make Uncle Mark forget what I could tell him,” she said grimly.</p><p>Aunt Verona stopped, her fist still raised, her face an ugly puce.</p><p>“But if you sign my permission form,” Harriet went on quickly, “I swear I’ll remember where I’m supposed to go to school, and I’ll act like a Mug — like I’m normal and everything.”</p><p>Harriet could tell that Aunt Verona was thinking it over, even if her teeth were bared and a vein was throbbing in her temple.</p><p>“Right,” she snapped finally. “I shall monitor your behaviour carefully during Mark's visit. If, at the end of it, you’ve toed the line and kept to the story, I’ll sign your ruddy form.”</p><p>She wheeled around, pulled open the front door, and slammed it so hard that one of the little panes of glass at the top fell out.</p><p>Harriet didn’t return to the kitchen. She went back upstairs to her bedroom. If she was going to act like a real Muggle, he'd better start now. Slowly and sadly, she gathered up all her presents and her birthday cards and hid them under the loose floorboard with her homework. Then she went to Hedwig’s cage. Errol seemed to have recovered; he and Hedwig were both asleep, heads under their wings. Harriet sighed, then poked them both awake.</p><p>“Hedwig,” she said gloomily, “you’re going to have to clear off for a week. Go with Errol. Ronnie’ll look after you. I’ll write her a note, explaining. And don’t look at me like that” — Hedwig’s large amber eyes were reproachful — “it’s not my fault. It’s the only way I’ll be allowed to visit Hogsmeade with Ronnie and Hermes.”</p><p>Ten minutes later, Errol and Hedwig (who had a note to Ronnie bound to her leg) soared out of the<br/>
window and out of sight. Harriet, now feeling thoroughly miserable, put the empty cage away<br/>
inside the wardrobe. </p><p>But Harriet didn’t have long to brood. In next to no time, Uncle Peter was shrieking up the stairs for Harriet to come down and get ready to welcome their guest.</p><p>“Do something about your hair!” Uncle Peter snapped as she reached the hall.</p><p>Harriet couldn’t see the point of trying to make her hair lie flat. Uncle Mark loved criticising her, so the untidier she looked, the happier he would be.</p><p>All too soon, there was a crunch of gravel outside as Aunt Verona's car pulled back into the driveway, then the clunk of the car doors and footsteps on the garden path.</p><p>“Get the door!” Uncle Peter hissed at Harriet.</p><p>A feeling of great gloom in her stomach, Harriet pulled the door open.</p><p>On the threshold stood Uncle Mark. He was very like Aunt Verona: large, beefy, and purple-faced, he had a moustache, though not as bushy as his hair. In one hand he held an enormous suitcase, and tucked under the other was an old and evil-tempered bulldog.</p><p>“Where’s my Diddy?” roared Uncle Mark. “Where’s my nissy poo?”</p><p>Diana came waddling down the hall, her blond hair plastered flat to her fat head. Uncle Mark thrust the suitcase into Harriet's stomach, knocking the wind out of her, seized Diana in a tight one-armed hug, and planted a large kiss on her cheek.</p><p>Harriet knew perfectly well that Diana only put up with Uncle Mark's hugs because she was well paid for it, and sure enough, when they broke apart, Diana had a crisp twenty-pound note clutched in her fat fist.</p><p>“Peter!” shouted Uncle Mark, striding past Harriet as though she was a hat-stand. Uncle Mark and Uncle Peter kissed, or rather, Uncle Mark bumped his large jaw against Uncle Peter's bony cheekbone.</p><p>Aunt Verona now came in, smiling jovially as she shut the door.</p><p>“Tea, Mark?” she said. “And what will Ripper take?”</p><p>“Ripper can have some tea out of my saucer,” said Uncle Mark as they all proceeded into the kitchen, leaving Harriet alone in the hall with the suitcase. But Harriet wasn’t complaining; any excuse not to be with Uncle Mark was fine by her, so she began to heave the case upstairs into the spare bedroom, taking as long as she could. </p><p>By the time she got back to the kitchen, Uncle Mark had been supplied with tea and fruitcake, and Ripper was lapping noisily in the corner. Harriet saw Uncle Peter wince slightly as specks of tea and drool flecked his clean floor. Uncle Peter hated animals.</p><p>“Who’s looking after the other dogs, Mark?” Aunt Verona asked.</p><p>“Oh, I’ve got Colonel Fubster managing them,” boomed Uncle Mark. “He’s retired now, good<br/>
for him to have something to do. But I couldn’t leave poor old Ripper. He pines if he’s away<br/>
from me.”</p><p>Ripper began to growl again as Harriet sat down. This directed Uncle Mark's attention to Harriet for the first time.</p><p>“So!” he barked. “Still here, are you?”</p><p>“Yes,” said Harriet.</p><p>“Don’t you say ‘yes’ in that ungrateful tone,” Uncle Mark growled. “It’s damn good of Verona and Peter to keep you. Wouldn’t have done it myself. You’d have gone straight to an orphanage if you’d been dumped on my doorstep.”</p><p>Harriet was bursting to say that she’d rather live in an orphanage than with the Evans', but the thought of the Hogsmeade form stopped her. She forced her face into a painful smile.</p><p>“Don’t you smirk at me!” boomed Uncle Mark. “I can see you haven’t improved since I last saw you. I hoped school would knock some manners into you.” He took a large gulp of tea, wiped his moustache, and said, “Where is it that you send her, again, Verona?”</p><p>“St. Brutus’s,” said Aunt Verona promptly. “It’s a first-rate institution for hopeless cases.”</p><p>“I see,” said Uncle Mark. “Do they use the cane at St. Brutus’s, girl?” he barked across the table.</p><p>“Er —”</p><p>Aunt Verona nodded curtly behind Uncle Mark's back.</p><p>“Yes,” said Harriet. Then, feeling she might as well do the thing properly, she added, “All the time.”</p><p>“Excellent,” said Uncle Mark. “I won’t have this namby-pamby, wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. A good thrashing is what’s needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. Have you been beaten often?” </p><p>“Oh, yeah,” said Harriet, “loads of times.”</p><p>Uncle Mark narrowed his eyes.</p><p>“I still don’t like your tone, girl,” he said. “If you can speak of your beatings in that casual way, they clearly aren’t hitting you hard enough. Peter, I’d write if I were you. Make it clear that you approve the use of extreme force in this girl's case.”</p><p>Perhaps Aunt Verona was worried that Harriet might forget their bargain; in any case, she changed the subject abruptly.</p><p>“Heard the news this morning, Mark? What about that escaped prisoner, eh?”</p><p>As Uncle Mark started to make himself at home, Harriet caught herself thinking almost longingly of life at number four without him. Aunt Verona and Uncle Peter usually encouraged Harriet to stay out of their way, which Harriet was only too happy to do. Uncle Mark, on the other hand, wanted Harriet under his eye at all times, so that he could boom out suggestions for her improvement. He delighted in comparing Harriet with Diana, and took huge pleasure in buying Diana expensive presents while glaring at Harriet, as though daring her to ask why she hadn’t got a present too. He also kept throwing out dark hints about what made Harriet such an unsatisfactory person.</p><p>“You mustn’t blame yourself for the way the girl's turned out, Verona,” he said over lunch on the third day. “If there’s something rotten on the inside, there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”</p><p>Harriet tried to concentrate on her food, but her hands shook and her face was starting to burn with anger. 'Remember the form, she told herself. Think about Hogsmeade. Don’t say anything. Don’t rise —'</p><p>Uncle Mark reached for his glass of brandy.</p><p>“It’s one of the basic rules of breeding,” he said. “You see it all the time with dogs. If there’s something wrong with the bitch, there’ll be something wrong with the pup —”</p><p>At that moment, the glass Uncle Mark was holding exploded in his hand. Shards of glass flew in every direction and Uncle Mark sputtered and blinked, his great ruddy face dripping.</p><p>“Mark!” squealed Uncle Peter. “Mark, are you all right?” </p><p>“Not to worry,” grunted Uncle Mark, mopping his face with his napkin. “Must have squeezed it too hard. Did the same thing at Colonel Fubster’s the other day. No need to fuss, Peter, I have a very firm grip…”</p><p>But Uncle Peter and Aunt Verona were both looking at Harriet suspiciously, so she decided she’d better skip dessert and escape from the table as soon as she could.</p><p>Outside in the hall, she leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. It had been a long time since she’d lost control and made something explode. She couldn’t afford to let it happen again. The Hogsmeade form wasn’t the only thing at stake — if she carried on like that, she’d be in trouble with the Ministry of Magic.</p><p>Harriet was still an underage witch, and she was forbidden by wizard law to do magic outside school. Her record wasn’t exactly clean either. Only last summer she’d gotten an official warning that had stated quite clearly that if the Ministry got wind of any more magic in Privet Drive, Harriet would face expulsion from Hogwarts.</p><p>She heard the Evans' leaving the table and hurried upstairs out of the way.</p><p>Harriet got through the next three days by forcing herself to think about her Handbook of DoItYourself Broomcare whenever Uncle Mark started on her. This worked quite well, though it seemed to give her a glazed look, because Uncle Mark started voicing the opinion that she was mentally subnormal.</p><p>At last, at long last, the final evening of Mark's stay arrived. Uncle Peter cooked a fancy dinner and Aunt Verona uncorked several bottles of wine. They got all the way through the soup and the salmon without a single mention of Harriet's faults; during the lemon meringue pie, Aunt Verona bored them a with a long talk about Grunnings, her package-making company; then Uncle Peter made coffee and Aunt Verona brought out a bottle of brandy.</p><p>“Can I tempt you, Mark?”</p><p>Uncle Mark had already had quite a lot of wine. His huge face was very red.</p><p>“Just a small one, then,” he chuckled. “A bit more than that… and a bit more… that’s the ticket.”</p><p>Diana was eating her fourth slice of pie. Uncle Peter was sipping coffee with his little finger sticking out. Harriet really wanted to disappear into her bedroom, but she met Aunt Verona's angry little eyes and knew she would have to sit it out.</p><p>“Aah,” said Uncle Mark, smacking his lips and putting the empty brandy glass back down. “Excellent nosh, Peter. It’s normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after…” he burped richly and patted his great tweed stomach. “Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized girl,” he went on, winking at Diana. “You’ll be a proper-sized woman, Di, like your mother. Yes, I’ll have a spot more brandy, Verona…”</p><p>“Now, this one here —” he jerked his head at Harriet, who felt her stomach clench. 'The Handbook', she thought quickly.</p><p>“This one’s got a mean, runty look about her. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred.”</p><p>Harriet was trying to remember page twelve of her book: A Charm to Cure Reluctant Reversers.</p><p>“It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I’m saying nothing against your family, Peter” — he patted Uncle Peter's bony hand with his shovel-like one “but your brother was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then he ran off with a wastrel and here’s the result right in front of us.”</p><p>Harriet was staring at her plate, a funny ringing in her ears. 'Grasp your broom firmly by the tail', she thought. But she couldn’t remember what came next. Uncle Mark's voice seemed to be boring into her like one of Aunt Verona's drills.</p><p>“This Potter,” said Uncle Mark loudly, seizing the brandy bottle and splashing more into his glass and over the tablecloth, “you never told me what she did?”</p><p>Aunt Verona and Uncle Peter were looking extremely tense. Diana had even looked up from her pie to gape at hr parents.</p><p>“She — didn’t work,” said Aunt Verona, with half a glance at Harriet. “Unemployed.”</p><p>“As I expected!” said Uncle Mark, taking a huge swig of brandy and wiping his chin on his sleeve. “A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who —”</p><p>“She was not,” said Harriet suddenly. The table went very quiet. Harriet was shaking all over. She had never felt so angry in her life.</p><p>“MORE BRANDY!” yelled Aunt Verona, who had gone very white. She emptied the bottle into Uncle Mark's glass. “You, girl,” she snarled at Harriet. “Go to bed, go on —”</p><p>“No, Verona,” hiccupped Uncle Mark, holding up a hand, his tiny bloodshot eyes fixed on Harriet's. “Go on, girl, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash (drunk, I expect) —” </p><p>“They didn’t die in a car crash!” said Harriet, who found herself on her feet.</p><p>“They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives!” screamed Uncle Mark, swelling with fury. “You are an insolent, ungrateful little —”</p><p>But Uncle Mark suddenly stopped speaking. For a moment, it looked as though words had failed him. He seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger — but the swelling didn’t stop. His great red face started to expand, his tiny eyes bulged, and his mouth stretched too tightly for speech — next second, several buttons had just burst from his tweed jacket and pinged off the walls — he was inflating like a monstrous balloon, his stomach bursting free of his tweed waistband, each of his fingers blowing up like a salami…</p><p>“MARK!” yelled Aunt Verona and Uncle Peter together as Uncle Mark's whole body began to rise off his chair toward the ceiling. He was entirely round, now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and his hands and feet stuck out weirdly as he drifted up into the air, making apoplectic popping noises. Ripper came skidding into the room, barking madly.</p><p>“NOOOOOOO!”</p><p>Aunt Verona seized one of Mark's feet and tried to pull him down again, but was almost lifted from the floor herself. A second later, Ripper leapt forward and sank his teeth into Aunt Verona's leg.</p><p>Harriet tore from the dining room before anyone could stop her, heading for the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard door burst magically open as she reached it. In seconds, she had heaved her trunk to the front door. She sprinted upstairs and threw herself under the bed, wrenching up the loose floorboard, and grabbed the pillowcase full of her books and birthday presents. She wriggled out, seized Hedwig’s empty cage, and dashed back downstairs to her trunk, just as Aunt Verona burst out of the dining room, her trouser leg in bloody tatters.</p><p>“COME BACK IN HERE!” she bellowed. “COME BACK AND PUT HIM RIGHT!”</p><p>But a reckless rage had come over Harriet. She kicked her trunk open, pulled out her wand, and pointed it at Aunt Verona.</p><p>“He deserved it,” Harriet said, breathing very fast. “He deserved what he got. You keep away from me.”</p><p>She fumbled behind her for the latch on the door. </p><p>“I’m going,” Harriet said. “I’ve had enough.”</p><p>And in the next moment, she was out in the dark, quiet street, heaving her heavy trunk behind her, Hedwig’s cage under her arm.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Knight Bus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J. K. Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harriet was several streets away before she collapsed onto a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, panting from the effort of dragging her trunk. She sat quite still, anger still surging through her, listening to the frantic thumping of her heart. </p><p>But after ten minutes alone in the dark street, a new emotion overtook her: panic. Whichever way she looked at it, she had never been in a worse fix. She was stranded, quite alone, in the dark Muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go. And the worst of it was, she had just done serious magic, which meant that she was almost certainly expelled from Hogwarts. She had broken the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry so badly, she was surprised Ministry of Magic representatives weren't swooping down on her where she sat. </p><p>Harriet shivered and looked up and down Magnolia Crescent. </p><p>What was going to happen to her? Would she be arrested, or would she simply be outlawed from the wizarding world? She thought of Ronnie and Hermes, and her heart sank even lower. Harriet was sure that, criminal or not, Ronnie and Hermes would want to help her now, but they were both abroad, and with Hedwig gone, she had no means of contacting them. </p><p>She didn't have any Muggle money, either. There was a little wizard gold in the money bag at the bottom of her trunk, but the rest of the fortune her parents had left her was stored in a vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London. She’d never be able to drag her trunk all the way to London. Unless. . . </p><p>She looked down at her wand, which she was still clutching in her hand. If she was already expelled (her heart was now thumping painfully fast), a bit more magic couldn't hurt. She had the Invisibility Cloak she had inherited from her father -- what if she bewitched the trunk to make it feather-light, tied it to her broomstick, covered herself in the cloak, and flew to London? Then she could get the rest of her money out of her vault and. . . begin her life as an outcast. It was a horrible prospect, but she couldn't sit on this wall forever, or she'd find herself trying to explain to Muggle police why she was out in the dead of night with a trunk full of spell books and a broomstick. </p><p>Harriet opened her trunk again and pushed the contents aside, looking for the Invisibility Cloak -- but before she had found it, she straightened up suddenly, looking around her once more. </p><p>A funny prickling on the back of her neck had made Harriet feel she was being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses.</p><p>She bent over her trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, her hand clenched on her wand. She had sensed rather than heard it: someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind her. Harriet squinted at the black alleyway. If only it would move, then she'd know whether it was just a stray cat or -- something else. </p><p>"Lumos," Harriet muttered, and a light appeared at the end of her wand, almost dazzling her. She held it high over her head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them Harriet saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes. </p><p>Harriet stepped backward. Her legs hit her trunk and she tripped. Her wand flew out of her hand as she flung out an arm to break her fall, and she landed, hard, in the gutter. </p><p>There was a deafening BANG, and Harriet threw up her hands to shield her eyes against a sudden blinding light. . . </p><p>With a yell, she rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt exactly where Harriet had just been lying. They belonged, as Harriet saw when she raised her head, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus. </p><p>For a split second, Harriet wondered if she had been knocked silly by her fall. Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night. </p><p>"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stella Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve--"</p><p>The conductor stopped abruptly. She had just caught sight of Harriet, who was still sitting on the ground. Harriet snatched up her wand again and scrambled to her feet. Close up, she saw that Stella Shunpike was only a few years older than she was, eighteen or nineteen at most, with large, protruding ears and quite a few pimples. </p><p>"What were you doin' down there?" said Stella, dropping her professional manner. </p><p>"Fell over," said Harriet.</p><p>"'Choo fall over for?" sniggered Stella. </p><p>"I didn't do it on purpose," said Harriet, annoyed. One of the knees in her jeans was torn, and the hand she had thrown out to break her fall was bleeding. She suddenly remembered why she had fallen over and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and fence. The Knight Bus's headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty. </p><p>"'Choo lookin' at?" said Stella . </p><p>"There was a big black thing," said Harriet, pointing uncertainly into the gap. "Like a dog. . . but massive. . . "</p><p>She looked around at Stella, whose mouth was slightly open. With a feeling of unease, Harriet saw Stella's eyes move to the scar on Harriet's forehead. </p><p>"Woss that on your 'ead?" said Stella abruptly. </p><p>"Nothing," said Harriet quickly, flattening her hair over her scar. If the Ministry of Magic was looking for her, she didn't want to make it too easy for them. </p><p>"Woss your name?" Stella persisted. </p><p>"Netta Fortesque," said Harriet, saying the first name that came into her head. "So -- so this bus," she went on quickly, hoping to distract Stella, "did you say it goes anywhere?"</p><p>"Yep," said Stella proudly, "anywhere you like, 'long it's on land. Can't do nuffink underwater. </p><p>"Ere," she said, looking suspicious again, "you did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand 'and, dincha?"</p><p>"Yes," said Harriet quickly. "Listen, how much would it be to get to London?"</p><p>"Eleven Sickles," said Stella, "but for firteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot-water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice. "</p><p>Harriet rummaged once more in her trunk, extracted her money bag, and shoved some gold into Stella's hand. She and Stella then lifted her trunk, with Hedwig's cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus. </p><p>There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. A tiny wizard in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, "Not now, thanks, I'm pickling some slugs" and rolled over in his sleep.</p><p>"You 'ave this one," Stella whispered, shoving Harriet's trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Netta Fortesque, Ern. "</p><p>Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Harriet, who nervously flattened her bangs again and sat down on her bed. </p><p>"Take 'er away, Ern," said Stella, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie's. </p><p>There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Harriet found herself flat on her bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus. Pulling herself up, Harriet stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Stella was watching Harriet's stunned face with great enjoyment. </p><p>"This is where we was before you flagged us down," she said. "Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?"</p><p>"Ar," said Ernie. </p><p>"How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" said Harriet. </p><p>"Them!" said Stella contemptuously. "Don' listen properly, do they? Don' look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don'. "</p><p>"Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stella," said Ern. "We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute. "</p><p>Stella passed Harriet's bed and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. Harriet was still looking out of the window, feeling increasingly nervous. Ernie didn't seem to have mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed. </p><p>Stella came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a traveling cloak. </p><p>"'Ere you go, Madam Marsh," said Stella happily as Ern stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Stella threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way. </p><p>Harriet wouldn't have been able to sleep even if she had been traveling on a bus that didn't keep banging loudly and jumping a hundred miles at a time. Her stomach churned as she fell back to wondering what was going to happen to her, and whether the Dursleys had managed to get Uncle Mark off the ceiling yet.</p><p>Stella had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with her tongue between her teeth. A large photograph of a sunken-faced woman with long, matted hair blinked slowly at Harriet from the front page. She looked strangely familiar. </p><p>"That man!" Harriet said, forgetting her troubles for a moment. "She was on the Muggle news!"</p><p>Stella turned to the front page and chuckled. </p><p>"Siri Black," she said, nodding. "'Course 'e was on the Muggle news, Netta. Where you been?"</p><p>She gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on Harriet's face, removed the front page, and handed it to Harriet. </p><p>"You oughta read the papers more, Netta. "</p><p>Harriet held the paper up to the candlelight and read:</p><p>“BLACK STILL AT LARGE</p><p>Siri Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today. </p><p>"We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornetta Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm. "</p><p>Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis. </p><p>"Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. She’s a danger to anyone who crosses her, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it -- who'd believe him if he did?"</p><p>While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.”</p><p>Harriet looked into the shadowed eyes of Siri Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. Harriet had never met a vampire, but she had seen pictures of them in her Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and Black, with her waxy white skin, looked just like one. </p><p>"Scary-lookin' fing, inshee?" said Stella, who had been watching Harriet read.</p><p>"She murdered thirteen people?" said Harriet, handing the page back to Stella, "with one curse?"</p><p>"Yep," said Stella, "in front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?"</p><p>"Ar," said Ern darkly. </p><p>Stella swiveled in her armchair, her hands on the back, the better to look at Harriet. </p><p>"Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-'Oo," she said. </p><p>"What, Voldemort?" said Harriet, without thinking. </p><p>Even Stella's pimples went white; Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse had to jump aside to avoid the bus. </p><p>"You outta your tree?" yelped Stella. "'Choo say 'is name for?"</p><p>"Sorry," said Harriet hastily. "Sorry, I -- I forgot --"</p><p>"Forgot!" said Stella weakly. "Blimey, my 'eart's goin' that fast. . . "</p><p>"So -- so Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?" Harriet prompted apologetically. </p><p>"Yeah," said Stella, still rubbing her chest. "Yeah, that's right. Very close to You-Know-'Oo, they say. . . anyway, when little 'Arriet Evans got the better of You-Know-'Oo" -- Harriet nervously flattened her bangs down again -- "all You-Know-'Oo's supporters was tracked down, wasn't they, Ern? Most of 'em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-'Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Siri Black. I 'eard she thought she'd be second-in-command once You-Know-'Oo 'ad taken over. </p><p>"Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles an' Black took out 'is wand and 'e blasted 'alf the street apart, an' a wizard got it, an' so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. 'Orrible, eh? An' you know what Black did then?" Stella continued in a dramatic whisper. </p><p>"What?" said Harriet. </p><p>"Laughed," said Stella. "Jus' stood there an' laughed. An' when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, 'e went wiv em quiet as anyfink, still laughing 'is 'ead off. 'Cos she's mad, inee, Ern? Inshee mad?"</p><p>"If she weren't when she went to Azkaban, she will be now," said Ern in his slow voice. "I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves her right, mind you. . . after what she did. . . "</p><p>"They 'ad a job coverin' it up, din' they, Ern?" Stella said. "'Ole street blown up an' all them Muggles dead. What was it they said 'ad 'appened, Ern?"</p><p>"Gas explosion," grunted Ernie. </p><p>"An' now she's out," said Stella, examining the newspaper picture of Black's gaunt face again. "Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, 'as there, Ern? Beats me 'ow she did it. Frightenin', eh? Mind, I don't fancy 'er chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?"</p><p>Ernie suddenly shivered. "Talk about summat else, Stella, there's a good lass. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles. "</p><p>Stella put the paper away reluctantly, and Harriet leaned against the window of the Knight Bus, feeling worse than ever. She couldn't help imagining what Stella might be telling her passengers in a few nights' time. </p><p>"'Ear about that 'Arriet Evans? Blew up 'er aunt! We 'ad 'er 'ere on the Knight Bus, di'n't we, Ern? She was tryin' to run for it. . . "</p><p>She, Harriet, had broken wizard law just like Siri Black. Was inflating Uncle Mark bad enough to land her in Azkaban? Harriet didn't know anything about the wizard prison, though everyone she'd ever heard speak of it did so in the same fearful tone. Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had spent two months there only last year. Harriet wouldn't soon forget the look of terror on Hagrid's face when she had been told where she was going, and Hagrid was one of the bravest people Harriet knew. </p><p>The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths and trees, and Harriet lay, restless and miserable, on her feather bed. After a while, Stella remembered that Harriet had paid for hot chocolate, but poured it all over Harriet's pillow when the bus moved abruptly from Anglesea to Aberdeen. One by one, wizards and witches in dressing gowns and slippers descended from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go. </p><p>Finally, Harriet was the only passenger left. </p><p>"Right then, Netta," said Stella, clapping her hands, "whereabouts in London?"</p><p>"Diagon Alley," said Harriet. </p><p>"Righto," said Stella. "'Old tight, then. "</p><p>BANG. </p><p>They were thundering along Charing Cross Road. Harriet sat up and watched buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Knight Bus's way. The sky was getting a little lighter. She would lie low for a couple of hours, go to Gringotts the moment it opened, then set off -- where, she didn't know. </p><p>Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small and shabby-looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley. </p><p>"Thanks," Harriet said to Ern. </p><p>She jumped down the steps and helped Stella lower her trunk and Hedwig's cage onto the pavement. </p><p>"Well," said Harriet. "'Bye then!"</p><p>But Stella wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus) she was goggling at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. </p><p>"There you are, Harriet," said a voice. </p><p>Before Harriet could turn, she felt a hand on her shoulder. At the same time, Stella shouted, "Blimey! Ern, come 'ere! Come 'ere!"</p><p>Harriet looked up at the owner of the hand on her shoulder and felt a bucketful of ice cascade into her stomach -- she had walked right into Cornetta Fudge, the Minister of Magic herself. </p><p>Stella leapt onto the pavement beside them. </p><p>"What didja call Netta, Minister?" she said excitedly. </p><p>Fudge, a portly little woman in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted. </p><p>"Netta?" she repeated, frowning. "This is Harriet Evans. "</p><p>"I knew it!" Stella shouted gleefully. "Ern! Ern! Guess 'oo Netta is, Ern! 'E's 'Arriet Evans! I can see 'is scar!"</p><p>"Yes," said Fudge testily, "well, I'm very glad the Knight Bus picked Harriet up, but she and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now. . . "</p><p>Fudge increased the pressure on Harriet's shoulder, and Harriet found herself being steered inside the pub. A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord. </p><p>"You've got her, Minister!" said Tom. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"</p><p>"Perhaps a pot of tea," said Fudge, who still hadn't let go of Harriet.</p><p>There was a loud scraping and puffing from behind them, and Stella and Ern appeared, carrying Harriet's trunk and Hedwig's cage and looking around excitedly. </p><p>"'Ow come you di'n't tell us 'oo you are, eh, Netta?" said Stella, beaming at Harriet, while Ernie's owlish face peered interestedly over Stella's shoulder. </p><p>"And a private parlor, please, Tom," said Fudge pointedly. </p><p>"'Bye," Harriet said miserably to Stella and Ern as Tom beckoned Fudge toward the passage that led from the bar. </p><p>"'Bye, Netta!" called Stella. </p><p>Fudge marched Harriet along the narrow passage after Tom's lantern, and then into a small parlor. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room. </p><p>"Sit down, Harriet," said Fudge, indicating a chair by the fire. </p><p>Harriet sat down, feeling goose bumps rising up her arms despite the glow of the fire. Fudge took off her pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the skirt of her bottle-green dress and sat down opposite Harriet. </p><p>"I am Cornetta Fudge, Harriet. The Minister of Magic. "</p><p>Harriet already knew this, of course; she had seen Fudge once before, but as she had been wearing her father's Invisibility Cloak at the time, Fudge wasn't to know that. </p><p>Tom the innkeeper reappeared, wearing an apron over his nightshirt and bearing a tray of tea and crumpets. He placed the tray on a table between Fudge and Harriet and left the parlor, closing the door behind him. </p><p>"Well, Harriet," said Fudge, pouring out tea, "you've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think. . . but you're safe, and that's what matters. "</p><p>Fudge buttered Herself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harriet. </p><p>"Eat, Harriet, you look dead on your feet. Now then. . . You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Mr Mark Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Mr Dursley has been punctured and his memory has been modified. He has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done."</p><p>Fudge smiled at Harriet over the rim of her teacup, rather like an aunt surveying a favorite niece. Harriet, who couldn't believe her ears, opened she mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again. </p><p>"Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?" said Fudge. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harriet, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays. "</p><p>Harriet unstuck her throat. </p><p>"I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays," she said, "and I don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive. "</p><p>"Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down," said Fudge in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other -- er -- very deep down. "</p><p>It didn't occur to Harriet to put Fudge right. She was still waiting to hear what was going to happen to her now. </p><p>"So all that remains," said Fudge, now buttering herself a second crumpet, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your holiday. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and. . . "</p><p>"Hang on," blurted Harriet. "What about my punishment?"</p><p>Fudge blinked. "Punishment?"</p><p>"I broke the law!" Harriet said. "The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!"</p><p>"Oh, my dear girl, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!" cried Fudge, waving her crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their uncles!"</p><p>But this didn't tally at all with Harriet's past dealings with the Ministry of Magic. </p><p>"Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house!" she told Fudge, frowning. "The Ministry of Magic said I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!"</p><p>Unless Harriet's eyes were deceiving her, Fudge was suddenly looking awkward. </p><p>"Circumstances change, Harriet . . We have to take into account. . . in the present climate. . . Surely you don't want to be expelled?"</p><p>"Of course I don't," said Harriet. </p><p>"Well then, what's all the fuss about?" laughed Fudge. "Now, have a crumpet, Harriet, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you. "</p><p>Fudge strode out of the parlor and Harriet stared after her. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for her at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish her for what she'd done? And now Harriet came to think of it, surely it wasn't usual for the Minister of Magic herself to get involved in matters of underage magic?</p><p>Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper. </p><p>"Room eleven's free, Harriet," said Fudge. "I think you'll be very comfortable. just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand. . . I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me. "</p><p>"Okay," said Harriet slowly, "but why?"</p><p>"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" said Fudge with a hearty laugh. "No, no. . . best we know where you are. . . I mean. . . "</p><p>Fudge cleared her throat loudly and picked up her pinstriped cloak. </p><p>"Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know. . . "</p><p>"Have you had any luck with Black yet?" Harriet asked. </p><p>Fudge's finger slipped on the silver fastenings of her cloak. </p><p>"What's that? Oh, you've heard - well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed. . . and they are angrier than I've ever seen them. "</p><p>Fudge shuddered slightly. </p><p>"So, I'll say good-bye. "</p><p>She held out her hand and Harriet, shaking it, had a sudden idea. </p><p>"Er -- Minister? Can I ask you something?"</p><p>"Certainly," said Fudge with a smile. </p><p>"Well, third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but my aunt and uncle didn't sign the permission form. D'you think you could --?"</p><p>Fudge was looking uncomfortable. </p><p>"Ah," she said. "No, no, I'm very sorry, Harrie, but as I'm not your parent or guardian --"</p><p>"But you're the Minister of Magic," said Harriet eagerly. "If you gave me permission. . . "</p><p>"No, I'm sorry, Harriet, but rules are rules," said Fudge flatly. </p><p>"Perhaps you'll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year. In fact, I think it's best if you don't. . . yes. . . well, I'll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harriet. "</p><p>And with a last smile and shake of Harriet's hand, Fudge left the room. Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harriet. </p><p>"If you'll follow me, Miss Evans," she said, "I've already taken your things up. . . "</p><p>Harriet followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for her. </p><p>Inside was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe --</p><p>"Hedwig!" Harriet gasped. </p><p>The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harriet's arm. </p><p>"Very smart owl you've got there," chuckled Tom. "Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, Miss Evans, don't hesitate to ask. "</p><p>He gave another bow and left. </p><p>Harriet sat on her bed for a long time, absentmindedly stroking Hedwig. The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety blue to cold, steely gray and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold. Harriet could hardly believe that she'd left Privet Drive only a few hours ago, that she wasn't expelled, and that she was now facing two completely Evans-free weeks. </p><p>"It's been a very weird night, Hedwig," she yawned. </p><p>And without even removing her glasses, she slumped back onto her pillows and fell asleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Leaky Cauldron</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J.K. Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took Harriet several days to get used to her strange new freedom. Never before had she been able to get up whenever she wanted or eat whatever she fancied. She could even go wherever she liked as long as it was in Diagon Alley, and, as this long cobbled street was packed with the most fascinating wizarding shops in the world, Harriet felt no desire to break her word to Fudge and stray back into the Muggle world.</p><p>Harriet ate breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron, where she liked watching the other guests: funny little witches from the country, up for a day's shopping; venerable-looking wizards arguing over the latest article in Transfiguration Today; wild-looking warlocks, raucous dwarfs and, once, what looked suspiciously like a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a woollen balaclava.</p><p>After breakfast Harriet would go out into the back yard, take out her wand, tap the third brick from the left above the dustbin, and stand back as the archway into Diagon Alley opened in the wall.</p><p>Harriet spent the long sunny days exploring the shops and eating under the brightly coloured umbrellas outside cafes, where her fellow diners were showing each other their purchases ("it's a lunascope, old boy - no more messing around with moon charms, see?") or else discussing the case of Siri Black ("personally, I won't let any of the children out alone until she's back in Azkaban"). Harriet didn't have to do her homework under the blankets by torchlight anymore; now she could sit in the bright sunshine outside Florence Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlour, finishing all her essays with the occasional help from Florence Fortesque herself, who, apart from knowing a great deal about medieval witch-burnings, gave Harriet free sundaes every haf-hour.</p><p>Once Harriet had refilled her money bag with gold Galleons, solver Sickles and bronze Knuts from her vault at Gringotts, she needed to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend the whole lot at once. She had to keep reminding herself that she had five years to go at Hogwarts, and how it would feel to ask the Evans' for money for spellbooks, to stop herself buying a handsome set of solid gold Gobstones (a wizarding game rather like marbles, in which the stones squirted nasty-smelling liquid into the other player's face when they lost a point). She was sorely tempted, too, by the perfect, moving model of the galaxy in a large glass ball, which would have meant she never had to take another Astronomy lesson. But the thing that tested Harriet's resolution most appeared in her favourite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, a week after she'd arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.</p><p>Curious to know what the crowd in the shop was staring at, Harriet edged her way inside and squeezed in amongst the excited witches and wizards until she glimpsed a newly erected podium on which was mounted the most magnificent broom she had ever seen in her life.</p><p>"Just come out... prototype..." a square-jawed wizard was telling his companion.</p><p>"It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" squeaked a boy younger than Harriet, who was swinging off his father's arm.</p><p>"Irish International Side's just out in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd. "And they're favourites for the World Cup!"</p><p>A large witch in front of Harriet moved, and she was able to read the sign next to the broom:</p><p>"THE FIREBOLT</p><p>This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a streamlined, super-fine handle of ash, treated with a diamond hard polish and hand-numbered with it's own registration number. Each individually selected birch twig in the broomtail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving the Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint precision. The Firebolt has an acceleration of 0-150 miles an hour in ten seconds and incorporates an unbreakable braking charm. Price on request."</p><p>Price on request... Harriet didn't like to think how much gold the Firebolt would cost. She had never wanted anything so much in her whole life - but she had never lost a Quidditch match on her Numbus Two Thousand, and what was the point in emptying her Gringotts vault for the Firebolt, when she had a very good broom already? Harriet didn't ask for the price, but she returned, almost every day after that, just to look at the Firebolt.</p><p>There were, however, things that Harriet needed to buy. She went to the apothecary to replenish her store of Potions' ingredients, and as her school robes were now several inches too short in the arm and leg, she visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and bought new ones. Most important of all, she had to buy her new school books, which would include those for her two new subjects, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination.</p><p>Harriet got a surprise as she looked in at the bookshop window. Instead of the usual display of gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs, there was a large iron cage behind the glass which held about a hundred copies of The Monster Book of Monsters. Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively.</p><p>Harriet pulled her booklist out of her pocket and consulted it for the fist time. The Monster Book of Monsters was listed as the set book for Care of Magical Creatures. Now, Harriet understood why Hagrid has said it would come in useful. She felt relieved; she had been wondering whether Hagrid wanted help with some terrifying new pet.</p><p>As Harriet entered Flourish and Blotts, the manager came hurrying towards her.</p><p>"Hogwarts?" he said abruptly. "Come to get your new books?"</p><p>"Yes," said Harriet. "I need-"</p><p>"Get out of the way," said the manager impatiently, brushing Harriet aside. He drew on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick and proceeded towards the door of the Monster Book's cage.</p><p>"Hang on," said Harriet quickly, "I've already got one of those."</p><p>"Have you?" A look of enormous releif spread over the manager's face. "Thank heavens for that, I've been bitten five times already this morning-"</p><p>A loud ripping noise rent the air; two of the Monster Books had seized a third and were pulling it apart.</p><p>“Stop it! Stop it!” cried the manager, poking the walking stick through the bars and knocking the books apart. “I’m never stocking them again, never! It’s been bedlam! I thought we’d seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of the Invisible Book of Invisibility — cost a fortune, and we never found them… Well… is there anything else I can help you with?”</p><p>“Yes,” said Harriet, looking down her booklist, “I need Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky.”</p><p>“Ah, starting Divination, are you?” said the manager, stripping off his gloves and leading Harriet into the back of the shop, where there was a corner devoted to fortune-telling. A small table was stacked with volumes such as Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks and Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul.</p><p>“Here you are,” said the manager, who had climbed a set of steps to take down a thick, blackbound book. “Unfogging the Future. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods — palmistry, crystal balls, bird entrails.”</p><p>But Harriet wasn’t listening. Her eyes had fallen on another book, which was among a display on a small table: Death Omens — What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming.</p><p>“Oh, I wouldn’t read that if I were you,” said the manager lightly, looking to see what Harriet was staring at. “You’ll start seeing death omens everywhere. It’s enough to frighten anyone to death.”</p><p>But Harriet continued to stare at the front cover of the book; it showed a black dog large as a bear, with gleaming eyes. It looked oddly familiar…</p><p>The manager pressed Unfogging the Future into Harriet’s hands.</p><p>“Anything else?” he said.</p><p>“Yes,” said Harriet, tearing her eyes away from the dog’s and dazedly consulting her booklist. “Er — I need Intermediate Transfiguration and The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three.”</p><p>Harriet emerged from Flourish and Blotts ten minutes later with her new books under her arms and made her way back to the Leaky Cauldron, hardly noticing where she was going and bumping into several people.</p><p>She tramped up the stairs to her room, went inside, and tipped her books onto her bed. Somebody had been in to tidy; the windows were open and sun was pouring inside. Harriet could hear the buses rolling by in the unseen Muggle street behind her and the sound of the invisible crowd below in Diagon Alley. She caught sight of Herself in the mirror over the basin.</p><p>“It can’t have been a death omen,” she told his reflection defiantly. “I was panicking when I saw that thing in Magnolia Crescent… It was probably just a stray dog…”</p><p>She raised her hand automatically and tried to make her hair lie flat.</p><p>“You’re fighting a losing battle there, dear,” said her mirror in a wheezy voice.</p><p>As the days slipped by, Harriet started looking wherever she went for a sign of Ronnie or Hermes. Plenty of Hogwarts students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. Harriet met Sinead Finnigan and Dinah Thomas, her fellow Gryffindors, in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where they too were ogling the Firebolt; she also ran into the real Netta Fortesque, a round-faced, forgetful boy, outside Flourish and Blotts. Harriet didn’t stop to chat; Netta appeared to have mislaid her booklist and was being told off by her very formidable-looking grandfather. Harriet hoped he never found out that she’d pretended to be Netta while on the run from the Ministry of Magic.</p><p>Harriet woke on the last day of the holidays, thinking that she would at least meet Ronnie and Hermes tomorrow, on the Hogwarts Express. She got up, dressed, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where she’d have lunch, when someone yelled her name and she turned.</p><p>“Harriet! HARRIET!”</p><p>They were there, both of them, sitting outside Florence Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor — Ronnie looking incredibly freckly, Hermes very brown, both waving frantically at her.</p><p>“Finally!” said Ronnie, grinning at Harriet as she sat down. “We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you’d left, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin’s, and —”</p><p>“I got all my school stuff last week,” Harriet explained. “And how come you knew I’m staying at the Leaky Cauldron?”</p><p>“Mum,” said Ronnie simply.</p><p>Mrs. Prewett, who worked at the Ministry of Magic, would of course have heard the whole story of what had happened to Uncle Mark.</p><p>“Did you really blow up your aunt, Harriet?” said Hermes in a very serious voice.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to,” said Harriet, while Ronnie roared with laughter. “I just — lost control.”</p><p>“It’s not funny, Ronnie,” said Hermes sharply. “Honestly, I’m amazed Harriet wasn’t expelled.”</p><p>“So am I,” admitted Harriet. “Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested.” She looked at Ronnie. “Your mum doesn’t know why Fudge let me off, does she?”</p><p>“Probably ‘cause it’s you, isn’t it?” shrugged Ronnie, still chuckling. “Famous Harriet Evans and all that. I’d hate to see what the Ministry’d do to me if I blew up an uncle. Mind you, they’d have to dig me up first, because Dad would’ve killed me. Anyway, you can ask Mum yourself this evening. We’re staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too! So you can come to King’s Cross with us tomorrow! Hermes is there as well!”</p><p>Hermes nodded, beaming. “Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things.” </p><p>“Excellent!” said Harriet happily. “So, have you got all your new books and stuff?”</p><p>“Look at this,” said Ronnie, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it. “Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we’ve got all our books —” She pointed at a large bag under her chair. “What about those Monster Books, eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two.”</p><p>“What’s all that, Hermes?” Harriet asked, pointing at not one but three bulging bags in the chair next to him.</p><p>“Well, I’m taking more new subjects than you, aren’t I,” said Hermes. “Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies —”</p><p>“What are you doing Muggle Studies for?” said Ronnie, rolling her eyes at Harriet. “You’re Muggleborn! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!”</p><p>“But it’ll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view,” said Hermes earnestly.</p><p>“Are you planning to eat or sleep at all this year, Hermes?” asked Harriet, while Ronnie sniggered. Hermes ignored them.</p><p>“I’ve still got ten Galleons,” he said, checking his purse. “It’s my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present.”</p><p>“How about a nice book? said Ronnie innocently.</p><p>“No, I don’t think so,” said Hermes composedly. “I really want an owl. I mean, Harriet's got Hedwig and you’ve got Errol —”</p><p>“I haven’t,” said Ronnie. “Errol’s a family owl. All I’ve got is Scabbers.” She pulled her pet rat out of her pocket. “And I want to get him checked over,” she added, placing Scabbers on the table in<br/>front of them. “I don’t think Egypt agreed with him.”</p><p>Scabbers was looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers.</p><p>“There’s a magical creature shop just over there,” said Harriet, who knew Diagon Alley very well by now. “You could see if they’ve got anything for Scabbers, and Hermes can get his owl.”</p><p>So they paid for their ice cream and crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie. </p><p>There wasn’t much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes waited, examining the cages.</p><p>A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.</p><p>The double-ended newt wizard left, and Ronnie approached the counter.</p><p>“It’s my rat,” she told the witch. “He’s been a bit off-color ever since I brought him back from Egypt.”</p><p>“Bang him on the counter,” said the witch, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.</p><p>Ronnie lifted Scabbers out of her inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better took.</p><p>Like nearly everything Ronnie owned, Scabbers the rat was secondhand (he had once belonged to Ronnie’s brother Penelope) and a bit battered. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.</p><p>“Hm,” said the witch, picking up Scabbers. “How old is this rat?”</p><p>“Dunno,” said Ronnie. “Quite old. He used to belong to my sister.”</p><p>“What powers does he have?” said the witch, examining Scabbers closely.</p><p>“Er —” The truth was that Scabbers had never shown the faintest trace of interesting powers. The witch’s eyes moved from Scabbers’s tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe<br/>missing, and tutted loudly.</p><p>“He’s been through the mill, this one,” she said.</p><p> “He was like that when Penelope gave him to me,” said Ronnie defensively. </p><p>“An ordinary common or garden rat like this can’t be expected to live longer than three years or so,” said the witch. “Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these —”</p><p>She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ronnie muttered, “Show-offs.”</p><p>“Well, if you don’t want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic,” said the witch, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.</p><p>“Okay,” said Ronnie. “How much — OUCH!”</p><p>Ronnie buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on her head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.</p><p>“NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!” cried the witch, but Scabbers shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.</p><p>“Scabbers!” Ronnie shouted, racing out of the shop after him; Harriet followed.</p><p>It took them nearly ten minutes to catch Scabbers, who had taken refuge under a wastepaper bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. Ronnie stuffed the trembling rat back into her pocket and straightened up, massaging her head.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>“It was either a very big cat or quite a small tiger,” said Harriet.</p><p>“Where’s Hermes?”</p><p>“Probably getting her owl.”</p><p>They made their way back up the crowded street to the Magical Menagerie. As they reached it, Hermes came out, but he wasn’t carrying an owl. His arms were clamped tightly around the<br/>enormous ginger cat.</p><p>“You bought that monster?” said Ronnie, her mouth hanging open.</p><p>“He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” said Hermes, glowing.</p><p>That was a matter of opinion, thought Harriet. The cat’s ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall. Now that Scabbers was out of sight, however, the cat was purring contentedly in Hermes' arms.</p><p>“Hermes, that thing nearly scalped me!” said Ronnie.</p><p>“He didn’t mean to, did you, Crookshanks?” said Hermes.</p><p>“And what about Scabbers?” said Ronnie, pointing at the lump in her chest pocket. “He needs rest and relaxation! How’s he going to get it with that thing around?”</p><p>“That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic,” said Hermes, slapping the small red bottle into Ronnie’s hand. “And stop worrying, Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what’s the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he’d been in there for ages; no one wanted him.”</p><p>“Wonder why,” said Ronnie sarcastically as they set off toward the Leaky Cauldron.</p><p>They found Mrs. Prewett sitting in the bar, reading the Daily Prophet.</p><p>“Harriet!” sshe said, smiling as he looked up. “How are you?”</p><p>“Fine, thanks,” said Harriet as she, Ronnie, and Hermes joined Mrs. Prewett with their shopping.</p><p>Mrs. Prewett put down her paper, and Harriet saw the now familiar picture of Siri Black staring up at her.</p><p>“They still haven’t caught him, then?” she asked.</p><p>“No,” said Mrs. Prewett, looking extremely grave. “They’ve pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find her, but no luck so far.”</p><p>“Would we get a reward if we caught him?” asked Ronnie. “It’d be good to get some more money —”</p><p>“Don’t be ridiculous, Ronnie,” said Mrs. Prewett, who on closer inspection looked very strained. “Black’s not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old witch. It’s the Azkaban guards who’ll get her back, you mark my words.”</p><p>At that moment Mr. Prewett entered the bar, laden with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Frankie and Georgina, who were about to start their fifth year at Hogwarts; the newly elected<br/>Head Boy, Penelope; and the Prewett’s youngest child and only girl, Jerry.</p><p>Jerry, who had always been very taken with Harriet, seemed even more heartily embarrassed than usual when he saw her, perhaps because she had saved his life during their previous year at Hogwarts. He went very red and muttered “hello” without looking at her. Penelope, however, held out her hand solemnly as though she and Harriet had never met and said, “Harriet. How nice to see you.”</p><p>“Hello, Penelope,” said Harriet, trying not to laugh.</p><p>“I hope you’re well?” said Penelope pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor.</p><p>“Very well, thanks —”</p><p>“Harriet!” said Frankie, elbowing Penelope out of the way and bowing deeply. “Simply splendid to see<br/>you, old girl—”</p><p>“Marvelous,” said Georgina, pushing Frankie aside and seizing Harriet's hand in turn. “Absolutely spiffing.”</p><p>Penelope scowled.</p><p>“That’s enough, now,” said Mr. Prewett.</p><p>“Dad!” said Frankie, as though she’d only just spotted him and seizing his hand, too. “How really corking to see you —”</p><p>“I said, that’s enough,” said Mr. Prewett, depositing his shopping in an empty chair. “Hello, Harriet, dear. I suppose you’ve heard our exciting news?” He pointed to the brand-new silver<br/>badge on Penelope's chest. “Second Head Girl in the family!” he said, swelling with pride.</p><p>“And last,” Frankie muttered under her breath.</p><p>“I don’t doubt that,” said Mr. Prewett, frowning suddenly. “I notice they haven’t made you two prefects.”</p><p>“What do we want to be prefects for?” said Georgina, looking revolted at the very idea. “It’d take all the fun out of life.”</p><p>Jerry giggled.</p><p>“You want to set a better example for your brother!” snapped Mr. Prewett.</p><p>“Jerry's got other sisters to set him an example, Father,” said Penelope loftily. “I’m going up to change for dinner…” </p><p>She disappeared and Georgina heaved a sigh.</p><p>“We tried to shut her in a pyramid,” she told Harriet. “But Dad spotted us.”</p><p>Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair. Tom the innkeeper put three tables together in the parlor, and the seven Prewett's, Harriet, and Hermes ate their way through five delicious courses.</p><p>“How’re we getting to King’s Cross tomorrow, Mum?” asked Frankie as they dug into a sumptuous chocolate pudding.</p><p>“The Ministry’s providing a couple of cars,” said Mrs. Prewett.</p><p>Everyone looked up at her.</p><p>“Why?” said Penelope curiously.</p><p>“It’s because of you, Pen,” said Georgina seriously. “And there’ll be little flags on the hoods, with HG on them—”</p><p> “— for Humongous Gianthead,” said Frankie.</p><p> Everyone except Penelope and Mr. Prewett snorted into their pudding.</p><p>“Why are the Ministry providing cars, Mother?” Penelope asked again, in a dignified voice.</p><p> “Well, as we haven’t got one anymore,” said Mrs. Prewett, “and as I work there, they’re doing<br/>me a favor…”</p><p>His voice was casual, but Harriet couldn’t help noticing that Mrs. Prewett's ears had gone red, just like Ronnie’s did when she was under pressure.</p><p>“Good thing, too,” said Mr. Prewett briskly. “Do you realize how much luggage you’ve all got between you? A nice sight you’d be on the Muggle Underground… You are all packed, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Ronnie hasn’t put all her new things in her trunk yet,” said Penelope, in a long-suffering voice. “She's dumped them on my bed.”</p><p>“You’d better go and pack properly, Ronnie, because we won’t have much time in the morning,” Mr. Prewett called down the table. Ronnie scowled at Penelope. </p><p>After dinner everyone felt very full and sleepy. One by one they made their way upstairs to their rooms to check their things for the next day. Ronnie and Penelope were next door to Harriet. She had just closed and locked her own trunk when she heard angry voices through the wall, and went to see what was going on.</p><p>The door of number twelve was ajar and Penelope was shouting.</p><p>“It was here, on the bedside table, I took it off for polishing —”</p><p>“I haven’t touched it, all right?” Ronnie roared back.</p><p>“What’s up?” said Harriet.</p><p>“My Head Girl badge is gone,” said Penelope, rounding on Harriet.</p><p>“So’s Scabbers’s Rat Tonic,” said Ronnie, throwing things out of her trunk to look. “I think I might’ve left it in the bar —”</p><p>“You’re not going anywhere till you’ve found my badge!” yelled Penelope.</p><p>“I’ll get Scabbers’s stuff, I’m packed,” Harriet said to Ronnie, and she went downstairs.</p><p>Harriet was halfway along the passage to the bar, which was now very dark, when she heard another pair of angry voices coming from the parlor. A second later, she recognized them as Mr. and Mrs. Prewett’s. She hesitated, not wanting them to know she’d heard them arguing, when the sound of her own name made her stop, then move closer to the parlor door.</p><p>“… makes no sense not to tell her,” Mrs. Prewett was saying heatedly. “Harriet's got a right to know. I’ve tried to tell Fudge, but she insists on treating Harriet like a child. She's thirteen years old and —”</p><p>“Arlene, the truth would terrify her!” said Mr. Prewett shrilly. “Do you really want to send Harriet back to school with that hanging over her? For heaven’s sake, she’s happy not knowing!”</p><p>“I don’t want to make her miserable, I want to put her on her guard!” retorted Mrs. Prewett. “You know what Harriet and Ronnie are like, wandering off by themselves — they’ve ended up in the Forbidden Forest twice! But Harriet mustn’t do that this year! When I think what could have happened to her that night she ran away from home! If the Knight Bus hadn’t picked her up, I’m prepared to bet he would have been dead before the Ministry found her.”</p><p>“But she’s not dead, she’s fine, so what’s the point —” </p><p>“Michael, they say Siri Black’s mad, and maybe she is, but she was clever enough to escape from Azkaban, and that’s supposed to be impossible. It’s been three weeks, and no one’s seen hide nor hair of her, and I don’t care what Fudge keeps telling the Daily Prophet, we’re no nearer catching Black than inventing self-spelling wands. The only thing we know for sure is what Black’s after —”</p><p>“But Harry will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts.”</p><p>“We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe. If Black can break out of Azkaban, she can break into Hogwarts.”</p><p>“But no one’s really sure that Black’s after Harriet —”</p><p>There was a thud on wood, and Harriet was sure Mrs. Prewett had banged her fist on the table.</p><p>“Michael, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn’t report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Blacks been talking in her sleep for a while now. Always the same words: ‘She's at Hogwarts… she’s at Hogwarts.’ Black is deranged, Michael, and she wants Harriet dead. If you ask me, she thinks murdering Harriet will bring You-Know-Who back to power. Black lost everything the night Harriet stopped You-Know-Who, and she’s had twelve years alone in Azkaban to brood on that…”</p><p>There was a silence. Harriet leaned still closer to the door, desperate to hear more.</p><p>“Well, Arlene, you must do what you think is right. But you’re forgetting Ariana Dumbledore. I don’t think anything could hurt Harriet at Hogwarts while Dumbledore’s Headmaster. I suppose she knows about all this?”</p><p>“Of course she knows. We had to ask her if she minds the Azkaban guards stationing themselves around the entrances to the school grounds. She wasn’t happy about it, but she agreed.”</p><p>“Not happy? Why shouldn’t she be happy, if they’re there to catch Black?”</p><p>“Dumbledore isn’t fond of the Azkaban guards,” said Mrs. Prewett heavily. “Nor am I, if it comes to that… but when you’re dealing with a witch like Black, you sometimes have to join forces with those you’d rather avoid.”</p><p>“If they save Harriet—”</p><p>“– then I will never say another word against them,” said Mrs. Prewett wearily. “It’s late, Michael, we’d better go up…” </p><p>Harriet heard chairs move. As quietly as she could, she hurried down the passage to the bar and out of sight. The parlor door opened, and a few seconds later footsteps told her that Mr. and Mrs. Prewett were climbing the stairs.</p><p>The bottle of rat tonic was lying under the table they had sat at earlier. Harriet waited until she heard Mr. and Mrs. Prewett's bedroom door close, then headed back upstairs with the bottle.</p><p>Frankie and Georgina were crouching in the shadows on the landing, heaving with laughter as they listened to Penelope dismantling her and Ronnie’s room in search of her badge.</p><p>“We’ve got it,” Frankie whispered to Harriet. “We’ve been improving it.”</p><p>The badge now read Bighead Girl.</p><p>Harriet forced a laugh, went to give Ronnie the rat tonic, then shut herself in her room and lay down on her bed.</p><p>So Siri Black was after her. This explained everything. Fudge had been lenient with her because she was so relieved to find her alive. She'd made Harriet promise to stay in Diagon Alley where there were plenty of wizards to keep an eye on her. And she was sending two Ministry cars to take them all to the station tomorrow, so that the Prewett's could look after Harriet until she was on the train.</p><p>Harriet lay listening to the muffled shouting next door and wondered why she didn’t feel more scared. Siri Black had murdered thirteen people with one curse; Mr. and Mrs. Prewett obviously thought Harriet would be panic-stricken if she knew the truth. But Harriet happened to agree wholeheartedly with Mr. Prewett that the safest place on earth was wherever Ariana Dumbledore happened to be. Didn’t people always say that Dumbledore was the only person Lord Voldemort had ever been afraid of? Surely Black, as Voldemort’s right-hand man, would be just as frightened of her?</p><p>And then there were these Azkaban guards everyone kept talking about. They seemed to scare most people senseless, and if they were stationed all around the school, Black’s chances of getting inside seemed very remote.</p><p>No, all in all, the thing that bothered Harriet most was the fact that her chances of visiting Hogsmeade now looked like zero. Nobody would want Harriet to leave the safety of the castle until Black was caught; in fact, Harriet suspected her every move would be carefully watched until the danger had passed. </p><p>She scowled at the dark ceiling. Did they think she couldn’t look after herself? She'd escaped Lord Voldemort three times; she wasn’t completely useless…</p><p>Unbidden, the image of the beast in the shadows of Magnolia Crescent crossed her mind. What to do when you know the worst is coming…</p><p>“I’m not going to be murdered,” Harriet said out loud.</p><p>“That’s the spirit, dear,” said her mirror sleepily.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Dementor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J.K. Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tom woke Harriet the next morning with his usual toothless grin and a cup of tea. Harriet got dressed and was just persuading a disgruntled Hedwig to get back into her cage when Ronnie banged her way into the room, pulling a sweatshirt over her head and looking irritable.</p><p>"The sooner we get on the train, the better," she said. "At least I can get away from Penelope at Hogwarts. Now she's accusing me of dripping tea on her photo of Percy Clearwater. You know," Ronnie grimaced, "her boyfriend. She's hidden his face under the frame because his  nose has gone all blotchy…"</p><p>"I've got something to tell you," Harriet began, but they were interrupted by Frankie and Georgina, who had looked in to congratulate Ronnie on infuriating Penelope again.</p><p>They headed down to breakfast, where Mrs. Prewett was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow and Mr. Prewett was telling Hermes and Jerry about a love potion he’d made as a young boy. All three of them were rather giggly.</p><p>"What were you saying?" Ronnie asked Harriet as they sat down.</p><p>"Later," Harriet muttered as Penelope stormed in.</p><p>Harriet had no chance to speak to Ronnie or Hermes in the chaos of leaving; they were too busy heaving all their trunks down the Leaky Cauldron's narrow staircase and piling them up near the door, with Hedwig and Hermes, Penelope’s screech owl, perched on top in their cages. A small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly.</p><p>"It's all right, Crookshanks," Hermes cooed through the wickerwork. "I'll let you out on the train."</p><p>"You won't," snapped Ronnie. "What about poor Scabbers, eh?"</p><p>She pointed at her chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in her pocket.</p><p>Mrs. Prewett, who had been outside waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck her head inside.</p><p>"They're here,” she said. "Harriet, come on."</p><p>Mrs. Prewett marched Harriet across the short stretch of pavement toward the first of two old-fashioned dark green cars, each of which was driven by a furtive-looking wizard wearing a suit of emerald velvet.</p><p>"In you get, Harriet," said Mrs. Prewett, glancing up and down the crowded street.</p><p>Harriet got into the back of the car and was shortly joined by Hermes, Ronnie, and, to Ronnie’s disgust, Penelope.</p><p>The journey to King's Cross was very uneventful compared with Harriet’s trip on the Knight Bus. The Ministry of Magic cars seemed almost ordinary. though Harriet noticed that they could slide through gaps that Aunt Verona’s new company car certainly couldn't have managed. They reached King's Cross with twenty minutes to spare; the Ministry drivers found them trolleys, unloaded their trunks, touched their hats in salute to Mrs. Prewett, and drove away, somehow managing to jump to the head of an unmoving line at the traffic lights.</p><p>Mrs. Prewett kept close to Harriet’s elbow all the way into the station.</p><p>"Right then," she said, glancing around them. "Let's do this in pairs, as there are so many of us. I'll go through first with Harriet."</p><p>Mrs. Prewett strolled toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, pushing Harriet’s trolley and apparently very interested in the InterCity 125 that had just arrived at platform nine. With a meaningful look at Harriet, she leaned casually against the barrier. Harriet imitated her.</p><p>In a moment, they had fallen sideways through the solid metal onto platform nine and three-quarters and looked up to see the Hogwarts Express, a scarlet steam engine, puffing smoke over a platform packed with witches and wizards seeing their children onto the train.</p><p>Penelope and Jerry suddenly appeared behind Harriet. They were panting and had apparently taken the barrier at a run.</p><p>"Ah, there's Percy!" said Penelope, smoothing her hair and going pink again. Jerry caught Harriet’s eye, and they both turned away to hide their laughter as Penelope strode over to a boy with curly hair, walking with her chest thrown out so that he couldn't miss her shiny badge.</p><p>Once the remaining Prewetts and Hermes had joined them, Harriet and Mrs. Prewett led the way to the end of the train, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked quite empty. They loaded the trunks onto it, stowed Hedwig and Crookshanks in the luggage rack, then went back outside to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Prewett.</p><p>Mr. Prewett kissed all his children, then Hermes, and finally Harriet. She was embarrassed, but really quite pleased, when he gave her an extra hug.</p><p>"Do take care, won't you Harriet?" he said as he straightened up, his eyes oddly bright. Then he opened his enormous handbag and said, "I've made you all sandwiches. Here you are, Ronnie…no, they're not corned beef… Frankie? Where's Frankie? Here you are dear…"</p><p>"Harriet," said Mrs. Prewett quietly, "come over here for a moment."</p><p>She jerked her head towards a pillar, and Harriet followed her behind it, leaving the others crowded around Mr. Prewett.</p><p>"There's something I've got to tell you before you leave –" said Mrs. Prewett in a tense voice.</p><p>"It's all right, Mrs. Prewett," said Harriet, "I already know."</p><p>"You know? How could you know?"</p><p>"I — er — I heard you and Mr. Prewett talking last night. I couldn't help hearing," Harriet added quickly. "Sorry –"</p><p>"That's not the way I'd have chosen for you to find out," said Mrs. Prewett looking anxious.</p><p>"No — honestly it's OK. This way, you haven't broken your word to Fudge and I know what's going on."</p><p>"Harriet, you must be scared — "</p><p>"I'm not," said Harriet sincerely. "Really," she added, because Mrs. Prewett was looking disbelieving. "I'm not trying to be a hero, but seriously, Siri Black can't be worse than Lord Voldemort, can she?"</p><p>Mrs. Prewett flinched at the sound of the name, but overlooked it.</p><p>"Harriet, I knew you were, well, made of stronger stuff than Fudge seems to think, and I'm obviously pleased that you're not scared, but –"</p><p>"Arlene!" called Mr. Prewett, who was now shepherding the rest onto the train. "Arlene, what are you doing? It's about to go!"</p><p>"She’s coming Michael!" said Mrs. Prewett, but she turned back to Harriet and kept talking in a lower and more hurried voice, "Listen, I want you to give me your word –"</p><p>" — that I'll be a good girl and stay in the castle?" said Harriet gloomily.</p><p>"Not entirely," said Mrs. Prewett, who looked more serious than Harriet had ever seen her. "Harriet, swear to me you won't go looking for Black."</p><p>Harriet stared, "What!"</p><p>There was a loud whistle. Guards were walking along the train, slamming all the doors shut.</p><p>"Promise me, Harriet," said Mrs. Prewett, talking more quickly still, "that whatever happens –"</p><p>"Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?" said Harriet blankly.</p><p>"Swear to me that whatever you might hear –"</p><p>"Arlene, quickly!" cried Mr. Prewett.</p><p>Steam was billowing from the train it had started to move. Harriet ran to the compartment door and Ronnie threw it open and stood back to let her on. They leaned out of the window and waved at Mr. and Mrs. Prewett until the train turned a corner and blocked them from view.</p><p>"I need to talk to you in private," Harriet muttered to Ronnie and Hermes as the train picked up speed.</p><p>"Go away, Jerry," said Ronnie.</p><p>"Oh, that's nice," said Jerry huffily, and he stalked off.</p><p>Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes set off down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train.</p><p>This had only one occupant, a woman sitting fast asleep next to the window. Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes checked on the threshold. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and they had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food cart.</p><p>The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of witch’s robes that had been darned in several places. She looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, her light brown hair was flecked with gray.

"Who d'you reckon she is?" Ronnie hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window.</p><p>"Professor R. J. Howell." whispered Hermes at once.</p><p>"How'd you know that?"</p><p>"It's on her case," he replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the woman's head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Howell was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.</p><p>"Wonder what she teaches?" said Ronnie, frowning at Professor Howell’s pallid profile.</p><p>"That's obvious," whispered Hermes. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."</p><p>Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes had already had two Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, both of whom had lasted only one year. There were rumors that the job was jinxed.</p><p>"Well, I hope she's up to it," said Ronnie doubtfully. "She looks like one, good hex would finish her off, doesn't she? Anyway…" she turned to Harriet, "what were you going to tell us?"</p><p>Harriet explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Prewett’s argument and the warning Mrs. Prewett had just given her. When she'd finished, Ronnie looked thunderstruck, and Hermes had his hands over his mouth. He finally lowered them to say, "Siri Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harriet…you'll have to be really, really careful. don't go looking for trouble, Harriet …"</p><p>"I don't go looking for trouble," said Harriet, nettled. "Trouble usually finds me."</p><p>"How thick would Harriet have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill her?" said Ronnie shakily.</p><p>They were taking the news worse than Harriet had expected. Both Ronnie and Hermes seemed to be much more frightened of Black than she was.</p><p>"No one knows how she got out of Azkaban," said Ronnie uncomfortably. "No one's ever done it before. And she was a top-security prisoner too."</p><p>"But they'll catch her, won't they?" said Hermes earnestly. "I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking out for her too…."</p><p>"What's that noise?" said Ronnie suddenly.</p><p>A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.</p><p>"It's coming from your trunk, Harriet," said Ronnie, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. A moment later she had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Harriet’s robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ronnie’s hand and glowing brilliantly.</p><p>"Is that a Sneakoscope?" said Hermes interestedly, standing up for a better look.</p><p>"Yeah…mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ronnie said. "It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send it to Harriet."</p><p>"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" said Hermes shrewdly.<br/>
"No! Well…I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys…but how else was I supposed to get Harriet’s present to her?"</p><p>"Stick it back in the trunk," Harriet advised as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, "or it'll wake her up."</p><p>She nodded toward Professor Howell. Ronnie stuffed the Sneakoscope into a particularly horrible pair of Aunt Verona’s old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.</p><p>"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade," said Ronnie, sitting back down. "They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Frankie and Georgina told me."</p><p>"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" asked Hermes keenly. "I've read it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain –"</p><p>"Yeah, I think it is," said Ronnie in an offhand sort of way. "but that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!"</p><p>"What's that?" said Hermes.</p><p>"It's this sweetshop," said Ronnie, a dreamy look coming over her face, "where they've got everything…Pepper Imps — they make you smoke at the mouth — and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next”</p><p>"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermes pressed on eagerly. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain –"</p><p>"-and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them," said Ronnie, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermes was saying.</p><p>Hermes looked around at Harriet.</p><p>"Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?"</p><p>"'Spect it will," said Harriet heavily. "You'll have to tell me when you've found out."</p><p>"What d'you mean?" said Ronnie.</p><p>"I can't go. The Evans’ didn't sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn't either."<br/>
Ronnie looked horrified.</p><p>"You're not allowed to come? But — no way — McGonagall or someone will give you permission –"</p><p>Harriet gave a hollow laugh. Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house, was very strict.</p><p>" -or we can ask Frankie and Georgina, they know every secret passage out of the castle –"</p><p>"Ronnie!" said Hermes sharply. "I don't think Harriet should be sneaking out of the school with Black on the loose –"</p><p>"Yeah, I expect that's what McGonagall will say when I ask of permission," said Harriet bitterly.</p><p>"But if we're with her," said Ronnie spiritedly to Hermes. "Black wouldn't dare –"</p><p>"Oh, Ronnie, don't talk rubbish," snapped Hermes. "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street, do you really think she's going to worry about attacking Harriet just because we're there?"</p><p>He was fumbling with the straps of Crookshanks's basket as he spoke.</p><p>"Don't let that thing out!" Ronnie said, but too late; Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ronnie’s knees; the lump in Ronnie’s pocket trembled and she shoved Crookshanks angrily away.</p><p>"Get out of it!"</p><p>"Ronnie, don't!" said Hermes angrily.</p><p>Ronnie was about to answer back when Professor Howell stirred. They watched her apprehensively, but she simply turned her head the other way, mouth slightly open, and slept on.</p><p>The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened overhead. People were chasing backwards and forwards past the door of their compartment. Crookshanks had now settled in an empty seat, his squashed face turned towards Ronnie, his yellow eyes on Ronnie’s top pocket.</p><p>At one o'clock the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door.</p><p>“D'you think we should wake her up?" Ronnie asked awkwardly, nodding towards Professor Howell. "She looks like she could do with some food."</p><p>Hermes approached Professor Howell cautiously.</p><p>"Er — Professor?" he said. "Excuse me — Professor?"</p><p>She didn't move.</p><p>"Don't worry, dear," said the witch, as she handed over a large stack of cauldron cakes. "If she's hungry when she wakes, I'll be up front with the driver."</p><p>"I suppose she is asleep?" said Ronnie quietly, as the witch slid the compartment door closed. "I mean — she hasn't died, has she?"</p><p>"No, no, she's breathing," whispered Hermes, taking the cauldron cake Harriet passed him.</p><p>She might not be very good company, but Professor Howell’s presence in their compartment had its uses. Mid-afternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, they heard footsteps outside in the corridor again, and their three least favorite people appeared at the door: Dahlia Black, flanked by her cronies, Vanessa Crabbe and Georgia Goyle.</p><p>Dahlia Black and Harriet had been enemies ever since they had met on their very first journey to Hogwarts. Black, who had a pale, pointed, sneering face, was in Slytherin house; she played Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team, the same position that Harriet played on the Gryffindor team. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to exist to do Black’s bidding. They were both wide and muscly; Crabbe was taller, with a shorter haircut and a very thick neck; Goyle had long, bristly hair and long, gorilla arms.</p><p>"Well, look who it is," said Black in her usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Evans and Prewett."</p><p>Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.</p><p>"I heard your mother finally got her hands on some gold this summer, Prewett," said Black. "Did your father die of shock?"</p><p>Ronnie stood up so quickly she knocked Crookshanks's basket to the floor. Professor Howell gave a snort.</p><p>"Who's that?" said Black, taking an automatic step backward as she spotted Howell.</p><p>"New teacher," said Harriet, who got to her feet, too, in case she needed to hold Ronnie back. "What were you saying, Black?"</p><p>Black’s pale eyes narrowed; she wasn't fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose.</p><p>"C'mon," she muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.</p><p>Harriet and Ronnie sat down again, Ronnie massaging her knuckles.</p><p>"I'm not going to take any crap from Black this year," she said angrily. "I mean it. If she makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of her head and –"</p><p>Ronnie made a violent gesture in midair.</p><p>"Ronnie," hissed Hermes, pointing at Professor Howell, "be careful…"</p><p>But Professor Howell was still fast asleep.</p><p>The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Howell slept.</p><p>"We must be nearly there," said Ronnie, leaning forward to look past Professor Howell at the now completely black window.</p><p>The words had hardly left her when the train started to slow down.</p><p>"Great," said Ronnie, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Howell to try and see outside. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast…"</p><p>"We can't be there yet," said Hermes, checking his watch.</p><p>"So why're we stopping?"</p><p>The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.</p><p>Harriet, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.</p><p>The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.</p><p>"What's going on?" said Ronnie’s voice from behind Harriet.</p><p>"Ouch!" gasped Hermes. "Ronnie, that was my foot!"</p><p>Harriet felt her way back to her seat.</p><p>"D'you think we've broken down?"</p><p>"Dunno…"</p><p>There was a squeaking sound, and Harriet saw the dim black outline of Ronnie, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.</p><p>"There's something moving out there," Ronnie said. "I think people are coming aboard…"</p><p>The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harriet’s legs.</p><p>"Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry –"</p><p>"Hullo, Netta," said Harriet, feeling around in the dark and pulling Netta up by her cloak.</p><p>"Harriet? Is that you? What's happening?"</p><p>"No idea! Sit down –"</p><p>There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Netta had tried to sit on Crookshanks.</p><p>"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermes’ voice. Harriet felt him pass her, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.</p><p>"Who's that?"</p><p>"Who's that?"</p><p>"Jerry?"</p><p>"Hermes?"</p><p>"What are you doing?"</p><p>"I was looking for Ronnie –"</p><p>"Come in and sit down –"</p><p>"Not here!" said Harriet hurriedly. "I'm here!"</p><p>"Ouch!" said Netta.</p><p>"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly. Professor Howell appeared to have woken up at last. Harriet could hear movements in her corner.</p><p>None of them spoke.</p><p>There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Howell appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated her tired, grey face, but her eyes looked alert and wary.</p><p>"Stay where you are." she said in the same hoarse voice, and she got slowly to her feet with her handful of fire held out in front of her.</p><p>But the door slid slowly open before Howell could reach it.</p><p>Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Howell’s hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harriet’s eyes darted downward, and what she saw made her stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water….</p><p>But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harriet’s gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.<br/>
And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.</p><p>An intense cold swept over them all. Harriet felt her own breath catch in her chest. The cold went deeper than her skin. It was inside her chest, it was inside her very heart…</p><p>Harriet’s eyes rolled up into her head. She couldn't see. She was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in her ears as though of water. She was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder…</p><p>And then, from far away, she heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. She wanted to help whoever it was, she tried to move her arms, but couldn't…a thick white fog was swirling around her, inside her —</p><p>"Harriet! Harriet! Are you all right?"</p><p>Someone was slapping her face.</p><p>"W-what?"</p><p>Harriet opened her eyes; there were lanterns above her, and the floor was shaking — the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. She seemed to have slid out of her seat onto the floor. Ronnie and Hermes were kneeling next to her, and above them she could see Netta and Professor Howell watching. Harriet felt very sick; when she put up her hand to push her glasses back on, she felt cold sweat on her face.</p><p>Ronnie and Hermes heaved her back onto her seat.</p><p>"Are you okay?" Ronnie asked nervously.</p><p>"Yeah," said Harriet, looking quickly toward the door. The hooded creature had vanished. "What happened? Where's that — that thing? Who screamed?"</p><p>"No one screamed," said Ronnie, more nervously still.</p><p>Harriet looked around the bright compartment. Jerry and Netta looked back at her, both very pale.</p><p>"But I heard screaming –"</p><p>A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Howell was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.</p><p>"Here," she said to Harriet, handing her a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."</p><p>Harriet took the chocolate but didn't eat it.</p><p>"What was that thing?" she asked Howell.</p><p>"A Dementor," said Howell, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban."</p><p>Everyone stared at her. Professor Howell crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in her pocket.</p><p>"Eat," she repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…"</p><p>She strolled past Harriet and disappeared into the corridor.</p><p>"Are you sure you're okay, Harriet?" said Hermes, watching Harriet anxiously.</p><p>"I don't get it … what happened?" said Harriet, wiping more sweat off her face.</p><p>"Well — that thing — the Dementor — stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face) — and you — you –"</p><p>"I thought you were having a fit or something," said Ronnie, who still looked scared. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching –"</p><p>"And Professor Howell stepped over you, and walked toward the Dementor, and pulled out her wand," said Hermes, "and she said, 'None of us is hiding Siri Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the Dementor didn't move, so Howell muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of her wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away…"</p><p>"It was horrible," said Netta, in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"</p><p>"I felt weird," said Ronnie, shifting her shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again…"</p><p>Jerry, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Harriet felt, gave a small sob; Hermes went over and put a comforting arm around him.</p><p>"But didn't any of you — fall off your seats?" said Harriet awkwardly.</p><p>"No," said Ronnie, looking anxiously at Harriet again. "Jerry was shaking like mad, though…"</p><p>Harriet didn't understand. She felt weak and shivery, as though she were recovering from a bad bout of flu; she also felt the beginnings of shame. Why had she gone to pieces like that, when no one else had?</p><p>Professor Howell had come back. She paused as she entered, looked around, and said, with a small smile, "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know…"</p><p>Harriet took a bite and to her great surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of her fingers and toes.</p><p>"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," said Professor Howell. "Are you all right, Harriet?"</p><p>Harriet didn't ask how Professor Howell knew her name.</p><p>"Fine," she muttered, embarrassed.</p><p>They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Netta’s pet toad croaked loudly from under her hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.<br/>
"Firs' years this way!" called a familiar voice. Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.</p><p>"All right, you three?" Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They waved at her, but had no chance to speak to her because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform. Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Harriet could only assume, by an invisible horse, because when they climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.</p><p>The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw. Harriet felt better since the chocolate, but still weak. Ronnie and Hermes kept looking at her sideways, as though frightened she might collapse again.</p><p>As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Harriet saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf her again; she leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed her eyes until they had passed the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Hermes was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Hermes and Ronnie got out.</p><p>As Harriet stepped down, a drawling, delighted voice sounded in her ear.</p><p>"You fainted, Evans? Is Fortesque telling the truth? You actually fainted?"</p><p>Black elbowed past Hermes to block Harriet’s way up the stone steps to the castle, her face gleeful and her pale eyes glinting maliciously.</p><p>"Shove off, Black," said Ronnie, whose jaw was clenched.</p><p>"Did you faint as well, Prewett?" said Black loudly. "Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Prewett?"</p><p>"Is there a problem?" said a mild voice. Professor Howellhad just gotten out of the next carriage.</p><p>Black gave Professor Howell an insolent stare, which took in the patches on her robes and the dilapidated suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in her voice, she said, "Oh, no — er — Professor," then she smirked at Crabbe and Goyle and led them up the steps into the castle.</p><p>Hermes prodded Ronnie in the back to make her hurry, and the three of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous Entrance Hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.</p><p>The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Harriet followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Evans! Granger! I want to see you both!"</p><p>Harriet and Hermes turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor House, was calling over the heads of the crowd. He was a stern looking wizard who wore his hair slicked back; his sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. Harriet fought her way over to him with a feeling of foreboding: Professor McGonagall had a way of making her feel she must have done something wrong.</p><p>"There's no need to look so worried — I just want a word in my office," he told them. "Move along there, Prewett."</p><p>Ronnie stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Harriet and Hermes away from the chattering crowd; they accompanied him across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor.</p><p>Once they were in his office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned Harriet and Hermes to sit down. He settled himself behind his desk and said abruptly, "Professor Howell sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Evans."</p><p>Before Harriet could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Master Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in.</p><p>Harriet felt herself going red in the face. It was bad enough that she'd passed out, or whatever she had done, without everyone making all this fuss.</p><p>"I'm fine," she said, "I don't need anything –"</p><p>"Oh, it's you, is it?" said Master Pomfrey, ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at her. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"</p><p>"It was a Dementor, Peter," said Professor McGonagall.</p><p>They exchanged a dark look, and Master Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.</p><p>"Setting Dementors around a school,” he muttered, pushing back Harriet’s hair and feeling her forehead. "She won't be the last one who collapses. Yes, she's all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate –"</p><p>"I'm not delicate!" said Harriet crossly.</p><p>"Of course you're not," said Master Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking her pulse.</p><p>"What does she need?" said Professor McGonagall crisply. "Bed rest? Should she perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?"</p><p>"I'm fine!" said Harriet, jumping up. The thought of what Dahlia Black would say if she had to go to the hospital wing was torture.</p><p>"Well, she should have some chocolate, at the very least," said Master Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Harriet’s eyes.</p><p>"I've already had some," said Harriet. "Professor Howell gave me some. She gave it to all of us."</p><p>"Did she, now?" said Master Pomfrey approvingly. "So we've finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows her remedies?"</p><p>"Are you sure you feel all right, Evans?" Professor McGonagall said sharply.</p><p>"Yes," said Harriet.</p><p>"Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Mr. Granger about his course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together."</p><p>Harriet went back into the corridor with Master Pomfrey, who left for the hospital wing, muttering to himself. She had to wait only a few minutes; then Hermes emerged looking very happy about something, followed by Professor McGonagall, and the three of them made their way back down the marble staircase to the Great Hall.</p><p>It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long House tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in midair. Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little witch with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient hat and a three-legged stool out of the hall.</p><p>"Oh," said Hermes softly, "we've missed the Sorting!"</p><p>New students at Hogwarts were sorted into Houses by trying on the Sorting Hat, which shouted out the House they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin). Professor McGonagall strode off toward his empty seat at the staff table, and Harriet and Hermes set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, toward the Gryffindor table. People looked around at them as they passed along the back of the hall, and a few of them pointed at Harriet. Had the story of her collapsing in front of the Dementor traveled that fast?</p><p>She and Hermes sat down on either side of Ronnie, who had saved them seats.</p><p>"What was all that about?" she muttered to Harriet.</p><p>Harriet started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment the headmistress stood up to speak, and she broke off.</p><p>Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. She had several feet of long silver hair, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. She was often described as the greatest witch of the age, but that wasn't why Harriet respected her. You couldn't help trusting Ariana Dumbledore, and as Harriet watched her beaming around at the students, she felt really calm for the first time since the Dementor had entered the train compartment.</p><p>"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on her hair. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"</p><p>Dumbledore cleared her throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."</p><p>She paused, and Harriet remembered what Mrs. Prewett had said about Dumbledore not being happy with the Dementors guarding the school.</p><p>"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks," she added blandly, and Harriet and Ronnie glanced at each other. "It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors," she said.</p><p>Penelope, who was sitting a few seats down from Harriet, puffed out her chest again and stared around impressively. Dumbledore paused again; she looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.</p><p>"On a happier note," she continued, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.</p><p>"First, Professor Howell, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."</p><p>There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Howell clapped hard, Harriet among them. Professor Howell looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.</p><p>"Look at Prince!" Ronnie hissed in Harriet’s ear.</p><p>Professor Prince, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Howell. It was common knowledge that Prince wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but even Harriet, who hated Prince, was startled at the expression twisting her thin, sallow face. It was beyond anger: it was loathing. Harriet knew that expression only too well; it was the look Prince wore every time she set eyes on Harriet.</p><p>"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause for Professor Howell died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with her remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that her place will be filled by none other than Ruby Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."</p><p>Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes stared at one another, stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. Harriet leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at her enormous hands, her wide grin showing. </p><p>"We should've known!" Ronnie roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"</p><p>Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping her eyes on the tablecloth.</p><p>"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"</p><p>The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Harriet, suddenly ravenous, helped herself to everything she could reach and began to eat.</p><p>It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. Harriet, Ronnie and Hermes, however, were eager for it to finish so that they could talk to Hagrid. They knew how much being made a teacher would mean to her. Hagrid wasn't a fully qualified witch; she had been expelled from Hogwarts in her third year for a crime she had not committed. It had been Harriet, Ronnie and Hermes who had cleared Hagrid's name last year.</p><p>At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed, and they got their chance.</p><p>"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermes squealed as they reached the teachers' table.</p><p>"All down ter you three," said Hagrid, wiping her shining face on her napkin as she looked up at them. "Can' believe it…great woman, Dumbledore…came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said she'd had enough…It's what I always wanted…"</p><p>Overcome with emotion, she buried her face in her napkin, and Professor McGonagall shooed them away.</p><p>Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase and, very tired now, along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower, where a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked them, "Password?"</p><p>"Coming through, coming through!" Penelope called from behind the crowd. "The new password's Fortuna Major!"</p><p>"Oh no," said Netta Fortesque sadly. She always had trouble remembering the passwords.</p><p>Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided toward their separate staircases. Harriet climbed the spiral stair with no thought in her head except how glad she was to be back. They reached their familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds, and Harriet, looking around, felt she was home at last.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Talons and Tea Leaves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J.K. Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next day, the first thing they saw was Dahlia Black, who seemed to be entertaining a large group of Slytherins with a very funny story. As they passed, Black did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.</p><p>“Ignore her,” said Hermes, who was right behind Harriet. “Just ignore her, it’s not worth it…”</p><p>“Hey, Evans!” shrieked Percy Parkinson, a Slytherin boy with a face like a pug. “Evans! The Dementors are coming, Evans! Woooooooooo!”</p><p>Harriet dropped into a seat at the Gryffindor table, next to Georgina Prewett.</p><p>“New third-year course schedules,” said Georgina, passing them over. “What’s up with you, Harriet?”</p><p>“Black,” said Ronnie, sitting down on Georgina’s other side and glaring over at the Slytherin table.</p><p>Georgina looked up in time to see Black pretending to faint with terror again.</p><p>“That little git,” she said calmly. “She wasn’t so cocky last night when the Dementors were down at our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn’t she, Frankie?”</p><p>“Nearly wet herself,” said Frankie, with a contemptuous glance at Black.</p><p>“I wasn’t too happy myself,” said Georgina. “They’re horrible things, those Dementors…”</p><p>“Sort of freeze your insides, don’t they?” said Frankie.</p><p>“You didn’t pass out, though, did you?” said Harriet in a low voice. </p><p>"Forget it Harriet," said Georgina bracingly. "Mum had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Frankie? And she said it was the worst place she'd ever been, she came back all weak and shaking... They suck the happiness out of a place, Dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there."</p><p>"Anyway, we'll see how happy Black looks after our first Quidditch match," said Frankie. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin, first game of the season, remember?"</p><p>The only time Harriet and Black had faced each other in a Quidditch match, Black had definitely come off worse. Feeling slightly more cheerful, Harriet helped herself to sausages and fried tomatoes.</p><p>Hermes was examining his new schedule.</p><p>"Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today," he said happily.</p><p>"Hermes," said Ronnie, frowning as she looked over his shoulder, "they've messed up your timetable. Look - they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time."</p><p>"I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."</p><p>"But look," said Ronnie, laughing. "see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And -" Ronnie leaned closer to the timetable, disbelieving. "look - underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you're good, Hermes, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"</p><p>"Don't be silly," said Hermes shortly. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once."</p><p>"Well then -"</p><p>"Pass the marmalade," said Hermes.</p><p>"But -"</p><p>"Oh, Ronnie, what's it to you if my timetable's a bit full?" Hermes snapped. "I told you, I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."</p><p>Just then, Hagrid entered the Great Hall. She was wearing her long moleskin over coat and was absent-mindedly swinging a dead polecat from one enormous hand.</p><p>"All righ'?" she said eagerly, pausing on her way to the staff table. "Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five gettin' everythin' ready... hope it's okay... me, a teacher... hones'ly"</p><p>She grinned broadly at them and headed off to the staff table, still swinging the polecat.</p><p>"Wonder what she's been getting ready?" said Ronnie, a note of anxiety in her voice.</p><p>The Hall was starting to empty as people headed off towards their first lesson. Ronnie checked her schedule.</p><p>"We'd better go, look, Divination's at the top of North Tower. It'll take us ten minutes to get there..."</p><p>They finished breakfast hastily, said goodbye to Frankie and Georgina and waled back through the hall. As they passed the Slytherin table, Black did yet another impression of a fainting fit. The shouts of laughter followed Harriet into the Entrance Hall.</p><p>The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long on. Two years at Hogwarts hadn't taught them everything about the castle, and they had never been inside North Tower before.</p><p>"There's - got - to - be - a - short - cut," Ronnie panted, as they climbed the seventh long staircase and emerged on an unfamiliar landing, where there was nothing but a large painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.</p><p>"I think it's this way," said Hermes, peering down the empty passage to the right.</p><p>"Can't be," said Ronnie. "That's south. Look, you can see a bit of the lake outside the window..."</p><p>Harriet was watching the painting. A fat, dappled-grey pony had just ambled onto the grass and was gazing nonchalantly. Harriet was used to the subjects of Hogwarts paintings moving around and leaving their frames to visit each other, but she always enjoyed watching them. A moment later, a short, squat knight in a suit of armour had clanked into the picture after his pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.</p><p>"Aha!" he yelled, seeing Harriet, Ronnie and Hermes. "What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"</p><p>They watched in astonishment as the little knight tugged his sword out of its scabbard and began brandishing it violently, hopping up and down in rage. But the sword was too long for him; a particularly wild swing made him over balance, and he landed facedown in the grass.</p><p>"Are you alright?" said Harriet, moving closer to the picture.</p><p>"Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!"</p><p>The knight seized his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade sank deeply into the grass and, though he pulled with all his might, he couldn’t get it out again. Finally, he had to flop back down onto the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face.</p><p>“Listen,” said Harriet, taking advantage of the knight’s exhaustion, “we’re looking for the North Tower. You don’t know the way, do you?”</p><p>“A quest!” The knight’s rage seemed to vanish instantly. He clanked to his feet and shouted, “Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!”</p><p>He gave the sword another fruitless tug, tried and failed to mount the fat pony, gave up, and cried, “On foot then, good sirs and gentle lady! On! On!”</p><p>And he ran, clanking loudly, into the left side of the frame and out of sight.</p><p>They hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his armor. Every now and then they spotted him running through a picture ahead.</p><p>“Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!” yelled the knight, and they saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.</p><p>Puffing loudly, Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes climbed the tightly spiraling steps, getting dizzier and dizzier, until at last they heard the murmur of voices above them and knew they had reached the classroom.</p><p>“Farewell!” cried the knight, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. “Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!”</p><p>“Yeah, we’ll call you,” muttered Ronnie as the knight disappeared, “if we ever need someone mental.”</p><p>They climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class was already assembled. There were no doors off this landing, but Ronnie nudged Harriet and pointed at the ceiling, where there was a circular trapdoor with a brass plaque on it.</p><p>“‘Sydney Trelawney, Divination teacher,’” Harriet read. “How’re we supposed to get up there?”</p><p>As though in answer to her question, the trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Harriet’s feet. Everyone got quiet. </p><p>“After you,” said Ronnie, grinning, so Harriet climbed the ladder first.</p><p>She emerged into the strangest-looking classroom she had ever seen. In fact, it didn’t look like a classroom at all, more like a cross between someone’s attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.</p><p>Ronnie appeared at Harriet’s shoulder as the class assembled around them, all talking in whispers.</p><p>“Where is he?” Ronnie said.</p><p>A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft, misty sort of voice.</p><p>“Welcome,” it said. “How nice to see you in the physical world at last.”</p><p>Harriet’s immediate impression was of a large, glittering insect. Professor Trelawney moved into the firelight, and they saw that he was very thin; his large glasses magnified his eyes to several times their natural size, and he was draped in a gauzy spangled cloak. Innumerable chains and beads hung around his spindly neck, and his arms were encrusted with bands.</p><p>“Sit, my children, sit,” he said, and they all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs. Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes sat themselves around the same round table.</p><p>“Welcome to Divination,” said Professor Trelawney, who had seated himself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. “My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye.”</p><p>Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement. Professor Trelawney delicately rearranged his cloak and continued, “So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you… Books can take you only so far in this field…”</p><p>At these words, both Harriet and Ronnie glanced, grinning, at Hermes, who looked startled at the news that books wouldn’t be much help in this subject. </p><p>“Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future,” Professor Trelawney went on, his enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. “It is a Gift granted to few. You, girl,” he said suddenly to Netta, who almost toppled off her pouf. “Is your grandfather well?”</p><p>“I think so,” said Netta tremulously.</p><p>“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you, dear,” said Professor Trelawney, the firelight glinting on his emerald stone necklace. Netta gulped. Professor Trelawney continued placidly. “We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear,” he shot suddenly at Paavan Patil, “beware a red-haired woman.”</p><p>Paavan gave a startled look at Ronnie, who was right behind him and edged his chair away from her.</p><p>“In the second term,” Professor Trelawney went on, “we shall progress to the crystal ball — if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us for ever.”</p><p>A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney seemed unaware of it.</p><p>“I wonder, dear,” he said to Leroy Brown, who was nearest and shrank back in his chair, “if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?”</p><p>Leroy, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.</p><p>“Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading — it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October.”</p><p>Leroy trembled.</p><p>“Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear,” — he caught Netta by the arm as she made to stand up, “after you’ve broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I’m rather attached to the pink.”</p><p>Sure enough, Netta had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups when there was a tinkle of breaking china. Professor Trelawney swept over to her holding a dustpan and brush and said, “One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn’t mind… thank you…”</p><p>When Harriet and Ronnie had had their teacups filled, they went back to their table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. They swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped over.</p><p>“Right,” said Ronnie as they both opened their books at pages five and six. “What can you see in mine?”</p><p>“A load of soggy brown stuff,” said Harriet. The heavily perfumed smoke in the room was making her feel sleepy and stupid.</p><p>“Broaden your minds, my dears, and allow your eyes to see past the mundane!” Professor Trelawney cried through the gloom.</p><p>Harriet tried to pull herself together.</p><p>“Right, you’ve got a crooked sort of cross…” She consulted Unfogging the Future. “That means you’re going to have ‘trials and suffering’ — sorry about that — but there’s a thing that could be the sun. Hang on… that means ‘great happiness’… so you’re going to suffer but be very happy…”</p><p>“You need your Inner Eye tested, if you ask me,” said Ronnie, and they both had to stifle their laughs as Professor Trelawney gazed in their direction.</p><p>“My turn…” Ronnie peered into Harriet’s teacup, her forehead wrinkled with effort. “There’s a blob a bit like a bowler hat,” she said. “Maybe you’re going to work for the Ministry of Magic…”</p><p>She turned the teacup the other way up.</p><p>“But this way it looks more like an acorn… what’s that?” She scanned her copy of Unfogging the Future. “‘A windfall, unexpected gold.’ Excellent, you can lend me some. And there’s a thing here,” she turned the cup again, “that looks like an animal… yeah, if that was its head… it looks like a hippo… no, a sheep…”</p><p>Professor Trelawney whirled around as Harriet let out a snort of laughter. </p><p>"Let me see that, my dear,” he said reprovingly to Ronnie, sweeping over and snatching Harriet’s cup from her. Everyone went quiet to watch.</p><p>Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it anti-clockwise.</p><p>“The falcon… my dear, you have a deadly enemy.”</p><p>“But everyone knows that,” said Hermes in a loud whisper. Professor Trelawney stared at him.</p><p>“Well, they do,” said Hermes. “Everybody knows about Harriet and You-Know-Who.”</p><p>Harriet and Ronnie stared at him with a mixture of amazement and admiration. They had never heard Hermes speak to a teacher like that before. Professor Trelawney chose not to reply. He lowered his huge eyes to Harriet’s cup again and continued to turn it.</p><p>“The club… an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup…”</p><p>“I thought that was a bowler hat,” said Ronnie sheepishly.</p><p>“The skull… danger in your path, my dear…”</p><p>Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed.</p><p>There was another tinkle of breaking china; Netta had smashed her second cup. Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, his hand at his heart and his eyes closed.</p><p>“My dear girl — my poor dear girl — no — it is kinder not to say — no — don’t ask me…”</p><p>“What is it, Professor?” said Dinah Thomas at once. Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around Harriet and Ronnie’s table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney’s chair to get a good look at Harriet’s cup.</p><p>“My dear,” Professor Trelawney’s huge eyes opened dramatically, “you have the Grim.”</p><p>“The what?” said Harriet.</p><p>She could tell that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t understand; Dinah Thomas shrugged at her and Leroy Brown looked puzzled, but nearly everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror. </p><p>“The Grim, my dear, the Grim!” cried Professor Trelawney, who looked shocked that Harriet hadn’t understood. “The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear girl, it is an omen — the worst omen — of death!”</p><p>Harriet's stomach lurched. That dog on the cover of Death Omens in Flourish and Blotts — the dog in the shadows of Magnolia Crescent… Leroy Brown clapped his hands to his mouth too. Everyone was looking at Harriet, everyone except Hermes, who had gotten up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney’s chair.</p><p>“I don’t think it looks like a Grim,” he said flatly.</p><p>Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermes with mounting dislike.</p><p>“You’ll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future.”</p><p>Sinead Finnigan was tilting her head from side to side.</p><p>“It looks like a Grim if you do this,” she said, with her eyes almost shut, “but it looks more like a donkey from here,” she said, leaning to the left.</p><p>“When you’ve all finished deciding whether I’m going to die or not!” said Harriet, taking even herself by surprise. Now nobody seemed to want to look at her.</p><p>“I think we will leave the lesson here for today,” said Professor Trelawney in his mistiest voice. “Yes… please pack away your things…”</p><p>Silently the class took their teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away their books, and closed their bags. Even Ronnie was avoiding Harriet’s eyes.</p><p>“Until we meet again,” said Professor Trelawney faintly, “fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear,” — he pointed at Netta, “you’ll be late next time, so mind you work extra-hard to catch up.”</p><p>Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes descended Professor Trelawney’s ladder and the winding stair in silence, then set off for Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration lesson. It took them so long to find his classroom that, early as they had left Divination, they were only just in time.</p><p>Harriet chose a seat right at the back of the room, feeling as though she were sitting in a very bright spotlight; the rest of the class kept shooting furtive glances at her, as though she were about to drop dead at any moment. She hardly heard what Professor McGonagall was telling them about Animagi (wizards who could transform at will into animals), and wasn’t even watching when he transformed himself in front of their eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around his eyes.</p><p>“Really, what has got into you all today?” said Professor McGonagall, turning back into himself  with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. “Not that it matters, but that’s the first time my transformation’s not got applause from a class.”</p><p>Everybody’s heads turned toward Harriet again, but nobody spoke. Then Hermes raised his hand.</p><p>“Please, Professor, we’ve just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and —”</p><p>“Ah, of course,” said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. “There is no need to say any more, Mr. Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?”</p><p>Everyone stared at him.</p><p>“Me,” said Harriet, finally.</p><p>“I see,” said Professor McGonagall, fixing Harriet with his beady eyes. “Then you should know, Evans, that Sydney Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since he arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is his favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues —” Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that his nostrils had gone white. He went on, more calmly, “Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney…”</p><p>He stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, “You look in excellent health to me, Evans, so you will excuse me if I don’t let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in.”</p><p>Hermes laughed. Harriet felt a bit better. It was harder to feel scared of a lump of tea leaves away from the dim red light and befuddling perfume of Professor Trelawney’s classroom. Not everyone was convinced, however. Ronnie still looked worried, and Leroy whispered, “But what about Netta's cup?”</p><p>When the Transfiguration class had finished, they joined the crowd thundering toward the Great Hall for lunch.</p><p>“Ronnie, cheer up,” said Hermes, pushing a dish of stew toward her. “You heard what Professor McGonagall said.” </p><p>Ronnie spooned stew onto her plate and picked up her fork but didn’t start.</p><p>“Harry,” she said, in a low, serious voice, “You haven’t seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?”</p><p>“Yeah, I have,” said Harriet. “I saw one the night I left the Evans’.”</p><p>Ronnie let her fork fall with a clatter.</p><p>“Probably a stray,” said Hermes calmly.</p><p>Ronnie looked at Hermes as though he had gone mad.</p><p>“Hermes, if Harriet's seen a Grim, that’s — that’s bad,” she said. “My — my uncle Bilius saw one and — and he died twenty-four hours later!”</p><p>“Coincidence,” said Hermes airily, pouring himself some pumpkin juice.</p><p>“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” said Ronnie, starting to get angry. “Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!”</p><p>“There you are, then,” said Hermes in a superior tone. “They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim’s not an omen, it’s the cause of death! And Harriet's still with us because she’s not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I’d better kick the bucket then!”</p><p>Ronnie mouthed wordlessly at Hermes, who opened his bag, took out his new Arithmancy book, and propped it open against the juice jug.</p><p>“I think Divination seems very woolly,” he said, searching for his page. “A lot of guesswork, if you ask me.”</p><p>“There was nothing woolly about the Grim in that cup!” said Ronnie hotly.</p><p>“You didn’t seem quite so confident when you were telling Harriet it was a sheep,” said Hermes coolly.</p><p>“Professor Trelawney said you didn’t have the right aura! You just don’t like being bad at something for a change!”</p><p>She had touched a nerve. Hermes slammed his Arithmancy book down on the table so hard that bits of meat and carrot flew everywhere.</p><p>“If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I’m not sure I’ll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with my Arithmancy class!”</p><p>He snatched up his bag and stalked away.</p><p>Ronnie frowned after him.</p><p>“What’s he talking about?” she said to Harriet. “He hasn’t been to an Arithmancy class yet.”</p><p>Harriet was pleased to get out of the castle after lunch. Yesterday’s rain had cleared; the sky was a clear, pale gray, and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Care of Magical Creatures class.</p><p>Ronnie and Hermes weren’t speaking to each other. Harriet walked beside them in silence as they went down the sloping lawns to Hagrid’s hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was only when she spotted three only-too-familiar backs ahead of them that she realized they must be having these lessons with the Slytherins. Black was talking animatedly to Crabbe and Goyle, who were chortling. Harriet was quite sure she knew what they were talking about.</p><p>Hagrid was waiting for her class at the door of her hut. She stood in her moleskin over coat, with Fang the boarhound at her heels, looking impatient to start.</p><p>“C’mon, now, get a move on!” she called as the class approached. “Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin’ up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!”</p><p>For one nasty moment, Harriet thought that Hagrid was going to lead them into the forest; Harriet had had enough unpleasant experiences in there to last her a lifetime. However, Hagrid strolled off around the edge of the trees, and five minutes later, they found themselves outside a kind of paddock. There was nothing in there.</p><p>“Everyone gather ‘round the fence here!” she called. “That’s it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books —”</p><p>“How?” said the cold, drawling voice of Dahlia Black.</p><p>“Eh?” said Hagrid.</p><p>“How do we open our books?” Black repeated. She took out her copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, which she had bound shut with a length of rope. Other people took theirs out too; some, like Harriet, had belted their book shut; others had crammed them inside tight bags or clamped them together with binder clips.</p><p>“Hasn’ — hasn’ anyone bin able ter open their books?” said Hagrid, looking crestfallen.</p><p>The class all shook their heads.</p><p>“Yeh’ve got ter stroke ‘em,” said Hagrid, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. “Look —”</p><p>She took Hermes' copy and ripped off the Spellotape that bound it. The book tried to bite, but Hagrid ran a giant forefinger down its spine, and the book shivered, and then fell open and lay quiet in her hand.</p><p>“Oh, how silly we’ve all been!” Black sneered. “We should have stroked them! Why didn’t we guess!”</p><p>“I — I thought they were funny,” Hagrid said uncertainly to Hermes.</p><p>“Oh, tremendously funny!” said Black. “Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!”</p><p>“Shut up, Black,” said Harriet quietly. Hagrid was looking downcast and Harriet wanted Hagrid’s first lesson to be a success.</p><p>“Righ’ then,” said Hagrid, who seemed to have lost her thread, “so — so yeh’ve got yer books an’… an’… now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I’ll go an’ get ‘em. Hang on…”</p><p>She strode away from them into the forest and out of sight.</p><p>“God, this place is going to the dogs,” said Black loudly. “That oaf teaching classes, my father’ll have a fit when I tell him —”</p><p>“Shut up, Black,” Harriet repeated.</p><p>“Careful, Evans, there’s a Dementor behind you —”</p><p>“Oooooooh!” squealed Leroy Brown, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock.</p><p>Trotting toward them were a dozen of the most bizarre creatures Harriet had ever seen. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of what seemed to<br/>
be giant eagles, with cruel, steel-colored beaks and large, brilliantly, orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. Each of the beasts had a thick leather collar around its neck, which was attached to a long chain, and the ends of all of these were held in the vast hands of Hagrid, who came jogging into the paddock behind the creatures.</p><p>“Gee up, there!” she roared, shaking the chains and urging the creatures toward the fence where the class stood. Everyone drew back slightly as Hagrid reached them and tethered the creatures to the fence.</p><p>“Hippogriffs!” Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. “Beau’iful, aren’ they?”</p><p>Harriet could sort of see what Hagrid meant. Once you got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, you started to appreciate the Hippogriffs’ gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.</p><p>“So,” said Hagrid, rubbing her hands together and beaming around, “if yeh wan’ ter come a bit nearer…”</p><p>No one seemed to want to. Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes, however, approached the fence cautiously.</p><p>“Now, firs’ thing yeh gotta know abou’ Hippogriffs is, they’re proud,” said Hagrid. “Easily offended, Hippogriffs are. Don’t never insult one, ‘cause it might be the last thing yeh do.”</p><p>Black, Crabbe, and Goyle weren’t listening; they were talking in an undertone and Harriet had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson.</p><p>“Yeh always wait fer the Hippogriff ter make the firs’ move,” Hagrid continued. “It’s polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an’ yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh’re allowed ter touch him. If he doesn’ bow, then get away from him sharpish, ‘cause those talons hurt.”</p><p>“Right — who wants ter go first?”</p><p>Most of the class backed farther away in answer. Even Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes had misgivings. The Hippogriffs were tossing their fierce heads and flexing their powerful wings; they didn’t seem to like being tethered like this.</p><p>“No one?” said Hagrid, with a pleading look.</p><p>“I’ll do it,” said Harriet. </p><p>There was an intake of breath from behind her, and both Leroy and Paavan whispered, “Oooh, no, Harriet, remember your tea leaves!”</p><p>Harriet ignored them. She climbed over the paddock fence.</p><p>“Good gal, Harriet!” roared Hagrid. “Right then — let’s see how yeh get on with Buckbeak.”</p><p>She untied one of the chains, pulled the gray Hippogriff away from its fellows, and slipped off its leather collar. The class on the other side of the paddock seemed to be holding its breath. Black's eyes were narrowed maliciously.</p><p>“Easy now, Harriet,” said Hagrid quietly. “Yeh’ve got eye contact, now try not ter blink… Hippogriffs don’ trust yeh if yeh blink too much…”</p><p>Harriet’s eyes immediately began to water, but she didn’t shut them. Buckbeak had turned his great, sharp head and was staring at Harriet with one fierce orange eye. “Tha’s it,” said Hagrid. “Tha’s it, Harriet… now, bow.”</p><p>Harriet didn’t feel much like exposing the back of her neck to Buckbeak, but she did as she was told. She gave a short bow and then looked up.</p><p>The Hippogriff was still staring haughtily at her. It didn’t move.</p><p>“Ah,” said Hagrid, sounding worried. “Right — back away, now, Harriet, easy does it —”</p><p>But then, to Harriet’s enormous surprise, the Hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.</p><p>“Well done, Harriet!” said Hagrid, ecstatic. “Right — yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!”</p><p>Feeling that a better reward would have been to back away, Harriet moved slowly toward the Hippogriff and reached out toward it. She patted the beak several times and the Hippogriff closed<br/>
its eyes lazily, as though enjoying it.</p><p>The class broke into applause, all except for Black, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were looking deeply disappointed.</p><p>“Righ’ then, Harriet,” said Hagrid. “I reckon he migh’ let yeh ride him!”</p><p>This was more than Harriet had bargained for. She was used to a broomstick; but she wasn’t sure a Hippogriff would be quite the same. </p><p>“Yeh climb up there, jus’ behind the wing joint,” said Hagrid, “an’ mind yeh don’ pull any of his feathers out, he won’ like that…”</p><p>Harriet put her foot on the top of Buckbeak’s wing and hoisted herself onto its back. Buckbeak stood up. Harriet wasn’t sure where to hold on; everything in front of her was covered with feathers.</p><p>“Go on, then!” roared Hagrid, slapping the Hippogriffs hindquarters.</p><p>Without warning, twelve-foot wings flapped open on either side of Harriet, she just had time to seize the Hippogriff around the neck before she was soaring upward. It was nothing like a broomstick, and Harriet knew which one she preferred; the Hippogriff’s wings beat uncomfortably on either side of her, catching her under her legs and making her feel she was about to be thrown off; the glossy feathers slipped under her fingers and she didn’t dare get a stronger grip; instead of the smooth action of her Nimbus Two Thousand, she now felt herself rocking backward and forward as the hindquarters of the Hippogriff rose and fell with its wings.</p><p>Buckbeak flew her once around the paddock and then headed back to the ground; this was the bit Harriet had been dreading; she leaned back as the smooth neck lowered, feeling she was going to slip off over the beak, then felt a heavy thud as the four ill-assorted feet hit the ground. She just managed to hold on and push herself straight again.</p><p>“Good work, Harriet!” roared Hagrid as everyone except Black, Crabbe, and Goyle cheered. “Okay, who else wants a go?”</p><p>Emboldened by Harriet's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Netta ran repeatedly backward from his, which didn’t seem to want to bend its knees. Ronnie and Hermes practiced on the chestnut, while Harry watched.</p><p>Black, Crabbe, and Goyle had taken over Buckbeak. He had bowed to Black, who was now patting his beak, looking disdainful.</p><p>“This is very easy,” Black drawled, loud enough for Harriet to, hear her. “I knew it must have been, if Evans could do it… I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you?” she said to the Hippogriff. “Are you, you great ugly brute?”</p><p>It happened in a flash of steely talons; Black let out a high pitched scream and next moment, Hagrid was wrestling Buckbeak back into his collar as he strained to get at Malfoy, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over her robes.</p><p>“I’m dying!” Black yelled as the class panicked. “I’m dying, look at me! It’s killed me!”</p><p>“Yer not dyin’!” said Hagrid, who had gone very white. “Someone help me — gotta get her outta here —”</p><p>Hermes ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Black easily. As they passed, Harriet saw that there was a long, deep gash on Black's arm; blood splattered the grass and Hagrid ran with her, up the slope toward the castle.</p><p>Very shaken, the Care of Magical Creatures class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.</p><p>“They should sack her straight away!” said Percy Parkinson, who was in tears.</p><p>“It was Black's fault!” snapped Dinah Thomas. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.</p><p>They all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.</p><p>“I’m going to see if she’s okay!” said Percy, and they all watched him run up the marble staircase. The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon common room; Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes proceeded upstairs to Gryffindor Tower.</p><p>“You think she’ll be all right?” said Hermes nervously.</p><p>“'Course she will. Master Pomfrey can mend cuts in about a second,” said Harriet, who had had far worse injuries mended magically by the nurse.</p><p>“That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid’s first class, though, wasn’t it?” said Ronnie, looking worried. “Trust Black to mess things up for her…”</p><p>They were among the first to reach the Great Hall at dinnertime, hoping to see Hagrid, but she wasn’t there.</p><p>“They wouldn’t fire her, would they?” said Hermes anxiously, not touching his steak and kidney pudding.</p><p>“They’d better not,” said Ronnie, who wasn’t eating either.</p><p>Harriet was watching the Slytherin table. A large group including Crabbe and Goyle was huddled together, deep in conversation. Harriet was sure they were cooking up their own version of how Black had been injured.</p><p>“Well, you can’t say it wasn’t an interesting first day back,” said Ron gloomily. </p><p>They went up to the crowded Gryffindor common room after dinner and tried to do the homework Professor McGonagall had given them, but all three of them kept breaking off and glancing out of the tower window.</p><p>“There’s a light on in Hagrid’s window,” Harriet said suddenly.</p><p>Ronnie looked at her watch.</p><p>“If we hurried, we could go down and see her. It’s still quite early…”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Hermes said slowly, and Harriet saw him glance at her.</p><p>“I’m allowed to walk across the grounds,” she said pointedly. “Siri Black hasn’t got past the Dementors yet, has she?”</p><p>So they put their things away and headed out of the portrait hole, glad to meet nobody on their way to the front doors, as they weren’t entirely sure they were supposed to be out.</p><p>The grass was still wet and looked almost black in the twilight. When they reached Hagrid’s hut, they knocked, and a voice growled, “C’min.”</p><p>Hagrid was sitting in her shirtsleeves at her scrubbed wooden table; her boarhound, Fang, had her head in Hagrid’s lap. One look told them that Hagrid had been drinking a lot; there was a pewter<br/>
tankard almost as big as a bucket in front of her, and she seemed to be having difficulty getting them into focus.</p><p>“‘Spect it’s a record,” she said thickly, when she recognized them. “Don’ reckon they’ve ever had a teacher who lasted on’y a day before.”</p><p>“You haven’t been fired, Hagrid!” gasped Hermes.</p><p>“Not yet,” said Hagrid miserably, taking a huge gulp of whatever was in the tankard. “But’s only a matter o’ time, I’n’t, after Black…”</p><p>“How is she?” said Ronnie as they all sat down. “It wasn’t serious, was it?”</p><p>“Master Pomfrey fixed her best he could,” said Hagrid dully, “but she’s sayin’ it’s still agony… covered in bandages… moanin’…”</p><p>“She’s faking it,” said Harriet at once. “Master Pomfrey can mend anything. He regrew half my bones last year. Trust Black to milk it for all it’s worth.” </p><p>“School gov’nors have bin told, o’ course,” said Hagrid miserably. “They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left Hippogriffs fer later… one flobberworms or summat… Jus’ thought it’d make a good firs’ lesson’s all my fault…”</p><p>“It’s all Black's fault, Hagrid!” said Hermes earnestly.</p><p>“We’re witnesses,” said Harriet. “You said Hippogriffs attack if you insult them. It’s Black's problem that she wasn’t listening. We’ll tell Dumbledore what really happened.”</p><p>“Yeah, don’t worry, Hagrid, we’ll back you up,” said Ronnie.</p><p>Tears leaked out of the crinkled corners of Hagrid’s beetle-black eyes. She grabbed both Harriet and Ronnie and pulled them into a bone-breaking hug.</p><p>“I think you’ve had enough to drink, Hagrid,” said Hermes firmly. He took the tankard from the table and went outside to empty it.</p><p>“Ah, maybe he’s right,” said Hagrid, letting go of Harriet and Ronnie, who both staggered away, rubbing their ribs. Hagrid heaved herself out of her chair and followed Hermes unsteadily<br/>
outside. They heard a loud splash.</p><p>“What’s she done?” said Harriet nervously as Hermes came back in with the empty tankard.</p><p>“Stuck her head in the water barrel,” said Hermes , putting the tankard away.</p><p>Hagrid came back, her long hair sopping wet, wiping the water out of her eyes.</p><p>“That’s better,” she said, shaking her head like a dog and drenching them all. “Listen, it was good of yeh ter come an’ see me, I really —”</p><p>Hagrid stopped dead, staring at Harriet as though she’d only just realized she was there.</p><p>“WHAT D’YEH THINK YOU’RE DOIN’, EH?” she roared, so suddenly that they jumped a foot in the air. “YEH’RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN’ AROUND AFTER DARK, HARRIET! AN, YOU TWO! LETTIN’ HER!”</p><p>Hagrid strode over to Harriet, grabbed her arm, and pulled her to the door.</p><p>“C’mon!” Hagrid said angrily. “I’m takin’ yer all back up ter school an’ don’ let me catch yeh walkin’ down ter see me after dark again. I’m not worth that!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Boggart in the Wardrobe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J.K. Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Black didn't reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. She swaggered into the dungeon, her right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Harriet’s opinion, as though she were the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.</p><p>"How is it, Dahlia?" simpered Percy Parkinson. "Does it hurt much?"</p><p>"Yeah," said Black, putting on a brave sort of grimace. But Harriet saw her wink at Crabbe and Goyle when Percy had looked away.</p><p>"Settle down, settle down," said Professor Prince idly.</p><p>Harriet and Ronnie scowled at each other; Prince wouldn't have said 'settle down' if they'd walked in late, she'd have given them detention. But Black had always been able to get away with anything in Prince’s classes; Prince was head of Slytherin House, and generally favored her own students above all others.</p><p>They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Black set up her cauldron right next to Harriet and Ronnie, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table.</p><p>"Miss," Black called, "Miss, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm –"</p><p>"Prewett, cut up Black’s roots for her," said Prince without looking up.</p><p>Ronnie went brick red.</p><p>"There's nothing wrong with your arm," she hissed at Black.</p><p>Black smirked across the table.</p><p>"Prewett, you heard Professor Prince; cut up these roots."</p><p>Ronnie seized her knife, pulled Black’s roots toward her, and began to chop them roughly, so that they were all different sizes.</p><p>"Professor," drawled Black, "Prewett’s mutilating my roots, Miss."</p><p>Prince approached their table, stared down her hooked nose at the roots, then gave Ronnie an unpleasant smile from beneath her long, greasy black hair.</p><p>"Change roots with Black, Prewett."</p><p>"But, miss–!"</p><p>Ronnie had spent the last quarter of an hour carefully shredding her own roots into exactly equal pieces.</p><p>"Now," said Prince in her most dangerous voice.</p><p>Ronnie shoved her own beautifully cut roots across the table at Black, then took up the knife again.</p><p>"And, miss, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," said Black, her voice full of malicious laughter.</p><p>"Evans, you can skin Black’s shrivelfig," said Prince, giving Harriet the look of loathing she always reserved just for her.</p><p>Harriet took Black’s shrivelfig as Ronnie began trying to repair the damage to the roots she now had to use. Harriet skinned the shrivelfig as fast as she could and flung it back across the table at Black without speaking. Black was smirking more broadly than ever.</p><p>"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" she asked them quietly.</p><p>"None of your business," said Ronnie jerkily, without looking up.</p><p>"I'm afraid she won't be a teacher much longer," said Black in a tone of mock sorrow. "Mother’s not very happy about my injury –"</p><p>"Keep talking, Black, and I'll give you a real injury," snarled Ronnie.</p><p>"She's complained to the school governors. And to the Ministry of Magic. Mother’s got a lot of influence, you know. And a lasting injury like this" — she gave a huge, fake sigh — "who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?"</p><p>"So that's why you're putting it on," said Harriet, accidentally beheading a dead caterpillar because her hand was shaking in anger, "To try to get Hagrid fired."</p><p>"Well," said Black, lowering her voice to a whisper, "partly, Evans. But there are other benefits too. Prewett, slice my caterpillars for me."</p><p>A few cauldrons away, Netta was in trouble. Netta regularly went to pieces in Potions lessons; it was her worst subject, and her great fear of Professor Prince made things ten times worse. Her potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned —<br/>
"Orange, Fortesque," said Prince, ladling some up and allowing to splash back into the cauldron, so that everyone could see.<br/>
"Orange. Tell me, girl, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one cat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Fortesque?"</p><p>Netta was pink and trembling. She looked as though she was on the verge of tears.</p><p>"Please, Miss," said Hermes, "please, I could help Netta put it right –"</p><p>"I don't remember asking you to show off, Mr. Granger," said Prince coldly, and Hermes went as pink as Netta. "Fortesque, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."<br/>
Prince moved away, leaving Netta breathless with fear.</p><p>"Help me!" She moaned to Hermes.</p><p>"Hey, Harriet," said Sinead Finnigan, leaning over to borrow Harriet’s brass scales, "have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning — they reckon Siri Black's been sighted."</p><p>"Where?" said Harriet and Ronnie quickly. On the other side of the table, Black looked up, listening closely.</p><p>"Not too far from here," said Sinead, who looked excited. "It was a Muggle who saw her. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think she's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, she was gone."</p><p>"Not too far from here …" Ronnie repeated, looking significantly at Harriet. She turned around and saw Black watching closely. "What, Black? Need something else skinned?"</p><p>But Black’s eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed Harriet. She leaned across the table.</p><p>"Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Evans?"</p><p>"Yeah, that's right," said Harriet offhandedly.</p><p>Black’s thin mouth was curving in a mean smile.</p><p>"Of course, if it was me," she said quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good girl, I'd be out there looking for her."</p><p>"What are you talking about, Black?" said Ronnie roughly.</p><p>"Don't you know, Evans?" breathed Black, her pale eyes narrowed.</p><p>"Know what?"</p><p>Black let out a low, sneering laugh.</p><p>"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," she said. "Want to leave it to the Dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt her down myself."</p><p>"What are you talking about?" said Harriet angrily, but at that moment Prince called, "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Fortesque’s…"</p><p>Crabbe and Goyle laughed openly, watching Netta sweat as she stirred her potion feverishly. Hermes was muttering instructions to her out of the corner of his mouth, so that Prince wouldn't see. Harriet and Ronnie packed away their unused ingredients and went to wash their hands and ladles in the stone basin in the corner.</p><p>"What did Black mean?" Harriet muttered to Ronnie as she stuck her hands under the icy jet that poured from the gargoyle's mouth "Why would I want revenge on Black? She hasn't done anything to me — yet."</p><p>"She’s making it up," said Ronnie savagely. "She’s trying to make you do something stupid…"</p><p>The end of the lesson in sight, Prince strode over to Netta, who was cowering by her cauldron.</p><p>"Everyone gather 'round," said Prince, her black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Fortesque’s toad. If she has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, she has done it wrong, her toad is likely to be poisoned."</p><p>The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Prince picked up Trevor the toad in her left hand and dipped a small spoon into Netta’s potion, which was now green. She trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat.</p><p>There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Prince’s palm.</p><p>The Gryffindors burst into applause. Prince, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of her robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and she reappeared suddenly, fully grown.</p><p>"Five points from Gryffindor," said Prince, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help her, Mr. Granger. Class dismissed."</p><p>Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes climbed the steps to the entrance hall. Harriet was still thinking about what Black had said, while Ronnie was seething about Prince.</p><p>"Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, Hermes? You should've said Netta did it all by herself!"</p><p>Hermes didn't answer. Ronnie looked around.<br/>
"Where is he?"</p><p>Harriet turned too. They were at the top of the steps now, watching the rest of the class pass them, heading for the Great Hall and lunch.</p><p>"He was right behind us," said Ronnie, frowning.</p><p>Black passed them, walking between Crabbe and Goyle. She smirked at Harriet and disappeared.</p><p>"There he is," said Harriet.</p><p>Hermes was panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs; one hand clutched his bag, the other seemed to be tucking something down the front of his robes.</p><p>"How did you do that?" said Ronnie.</p><p>"What?" said Hermes, joining them.</p><p>"One minute you were right behind us, the next moment, you were back at the bottom of the stairs again."</p><p>"What?" Hermes looked slightly confused. "Oh — I had to go back for something. Oh no –"</p><p>A seam had split on Hermes’ bag. Harriet wasn't surprised; she could see that it was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.</p><p>"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Ronnie asked him.</p><p>"You know how many subjects I'm taking," said Hermes breathlessly. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you?"</p><p>"But –" Ronnie was turning over the books he had handed her, looking at the covers. "You haven't got any of these subjects today. It's only Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."</p><p>"Oh yes," said Hermes vaguely, but he packed all the books back into his bag just the same. "I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving," he added, and he marched off toward the Great Hall.</p><p>"D'you get the feeling Hermes’ not telling us something?" Ronnie asked Harriet.</p><p>Professor Howell wasn't there when they arrived at her first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when she finally entered the room. Howell smiled vaguely and placed her tatty old briefcase on the teacher's desk. She was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than she had on the train, as though she had had a few square meals.</p><p>"Good afternoon," she said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."</p><p>A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts class before, unless you counted the memorable class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of pixies to class and set them loose.</p><p>"Right then," said Professor Howell, when everyone was ready. "If you'd follow me."</p><p>Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Howell out of the classroom. She led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.</p><p>Peeves didn't look up until Professor Howell was two feet away; then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.<br/>
"Loony, loopy Howell," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Howell, loony, loopy Howell –"</p><p>Rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect toward the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Howell to see how she would take this; to their surprise, she was still smiling.</p><p>"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," she said pleasantly. "Mrs. Filch won't be able to get in to her brooms."</p><p>Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, failed wizard who waged a constant war against the students and, indeed, Peeves. However, Peeves paid no attention to Professor Howell's words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry.</p><p>Professor Howell gave a small sigh and took out her wand.</p><p>"This is a useful little spell," she told the class over her shoulder. "Please watch closely."</p><p>She raised the wand to shoulder height, said, "Waddiwasi!" and pointed it at Peeves.</p><p>With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.</p><p>"Cool, Miss!" said Dinah Thomas in amazement.</p><p>"Thank you, Dinah," said Professor Howell, putting her wand away again. "Shall we proceed?"</p><p>They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Howell with increased respect. She led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door.</p><p>"Inside, please," said Professor Howell, opening it and standing back.</p><p>The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Prince was sitting in a low armchair, and she looked around as the class filed in. Her eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around her mouth. As Professor Howell came in and made to close the door behind her, Prince said, "Leave it open, Howell. I'd rather not witness this." She got to her feet and strode past the class, her black robes billowing behind her. At the doorway she turned on her heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Howell, but this class contains Netta Fortesque. I would advise you not to entrust her with anything difficult. Not unless Mr. Granger is hissing instructions in her ear."</p><p>Netta went scarlet. Harriet glared at Prince; it was bad enough that she bullied Netta in her own classes, let alone doing it in front of other teachers.</p><p>Professor Howell had raised her eyebrows.</p><p>"I was hoping that Netta would assist me with the first stage of the operation," she said, "and I am sure she will perform it admirably."</p><p>Netta’s face went, if possible, even redder. Prince’s lip curled, but she left, shutting the door with a snap.</p><p>"Now, then," said Professor Howell, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Howell went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.</p><p>"Nothing to worry about," said Professor Howell calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a Boggart in there."</p><p>Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Netta gave Professor Howell a look of pure terror, and Sinead Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.</p><p>"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Professor Howell. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks — I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice."</p><p>"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a Boggart?"</p><p>Hermes put up his hand.</p><p>"It's a shape-shifter," he said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."</p><p>"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Professor Howell, and Hermes glowed. "So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears.</p><p>"This means," said Professor Howell, choosing to ignore Netta’s small sputter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harriet?"</p><p>Trying to answer a question with Hermes next to her, bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet with his hand in the air, was very off-putting, but Harriet had a go.</p><p>"Er — because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"</p><p>"Precisely," said Professor Howell, and Hermes put his hand down, looking a little disappointed. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening.</p><p>“The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing.</p><p>"We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please…riddikulus!"</p><p>"Riddikulus!" said the class together.</p><p>"Good," said Professor Howell. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Netta."</p><p>The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Netta, who walked forward as though she were heading for the gallows.</p><p>"Right, Netta," said Professor Howell. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"</p><p>Netta’s lips moved, but no noise came out.</p><p>"I didn't catch that, Netta, sorry," said Professor Howell cheerfully.</p><p>Netta looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help her, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Prince."</p><p>Nearly everyone laughed. Even Netta grinned apologetically. Professor Howell, however, looked thoughtful.</p><p>"Professor Prince…hmmm…Netta, I believe you live with your grandfather?"</p><p>"Er — yes," said Netta nervously. "But — I don't want the Boggart to turn into him either."</p><p>"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Professor Howell, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandfather usually wears?"</p><p>Netta looked startled, but said, "Well…always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a waistcoat…green, normally…and sometimes a fox-fur overcoat."</p><p>"And?" prompted Professor Howell.</p><p>"A bright red cane," said Netta.</p><p>"Right then," said Professor Howell. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Netta? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"</p><p>"Yes," said Netta uncertainly, plainly wondering what was coming next.</p><p>"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Netta, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Prince," said Howell. "And you will raise your wand — thus — and cry "Riddikulus" — and concentrate hard on your grandfather’s clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Prince will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green waistcoat, with that bright red cane."</p><p>There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.</p><p>"If Netta is successful, the Boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Howell. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…"</p><p>The room went quiet. Harriet thought…What scared her most in the world?</p><p>Her first thought was Lord Voldemort — a Voldemort returned to full strength. But before she had even started to plan a possible counterattack on a Boggart-Voldemort, a horrible image came floating to the surface of her mind….</p><p>A rotting, glistening hand, slithering back beneath a black cloak…a long, rattling breath from an unseen mouth…then a cold so penetrating it felt like drowning…</p><p>Harriet shivered, then looked around, hoping no one had noticed. Many people had their eyes shut tight. Ronnie was muttering to herself, "Take its legs off." Harriet was sure she knew what that was about. Ronnie’s greatest fear was spiders.</p><p>"Everyone ready?" said Professor Howell.</p><p>Harriet felt a lurch of fear. She wasn't ready. How could you make a Dementor less frightening? But she didn't want to ask for more time; everyone else was nodding and rolling up their sleeves.</p><p>"Netta, we're going to back away," said Professor Howell. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward…Everyone back, now, so Netta can get a clear shot –"</p><p>They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Netta alone beside the wardrobe. She looked pale and frightened, but she had pushed up the sleeves of her robes and was holding her wand ready.</p><p>"On the count of three, Netta," said Professor Howell, who was pointing her own wand at the handle of the wardrobe. "One — two — three — now!"</p><p>A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Howell’s wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Prince stepped out, her eyes flashing at Netta.</p><p>Netta backed away, her wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Prince was bearing down upon her, reaching inside her robes.</p><p>"R — r — riddikulus! " squeaked Netta.</p><p>There was a noise like a whip crack. Prince stumbled; she was wearing a tartan-trimmed waistcoat and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and she was swinging a bright crimson walking stick.</p><p>There was a roar of laughter; the Boggart paused, confused, and Professor Howell shouted, "Paavan! Forward!"</p><p>Paavan walked forward, his face set. Prince rounded on him. There was another crack, and where she had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Paavan and it began to walk toward him very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising —</p><p>"Riddikulus!" cried Paavan.</p><p>A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.</p><p>"Sinead!" roared Professor Howell.</p><p>Sinead darted past Paavan.</p><p>Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floorlength black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face — a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek that made the hair on Harriet’s head stand on end — "Riddikulus!" shouted Sinead.</p><p>The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.<br/>
Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then — crack!- became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before — crack! — becoming a single, bloody eyeball.</p><p>"It's confused!" shouted Howell. "We're getting there! Dinah!"</p><p>Dinah hurried forward.</p><p>Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.</p><p>"Riddikulus!" yelled Dinah.</p><p>There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.</p><p>"Excellent! Ronnie, you next!"</p><p>Ronnie leapt forward.</p><p>Crack!</p><p>Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ronnie, clicking its pincers menacingly. For a moment, Harriet thought Ronnie had frozen. Then —</p><p>"Riddikulus!" bellowed Ronnie, and the spider's legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Leroy Brown squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Harriet’s feet. She raised her wand, ready, but —</p><p>"Here!" shouted Professor Howell suddenly, hurrying forward. Crack!</p><p>The legless spider had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then they saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Howell, who said, "Riddikulus!" almost lazily.</p><p>Crack!</p><p>"Forward, Netta, and finish her off!" said Howell as the Boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! Prince was back. This time Netta charged forward looking determined.</p><p>"Riddikulus!" She shouted, and they had a split second's view of Prince in her waistcoat before Netta let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the Boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.</p><p>"Excellent!" cried Professor Howell as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Netta. Well done, everyone…Let me see…five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart — ten for Neville because she did it twice…and five each to Hermes and Harriet."</p><p>"But I didn't do anything," said Harriet.</p><p>"You and Hermes answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harriet," Howell said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarize it for me…to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."</p><p>Talking excitedly, the class left the staffroom. Harriet, however, wasn't feeling cheerful. Professor Howell had deliberately stopped her from tackling the Boggart. Why? Was it because she'd seen Harriet collapse on the train, and thought she wasn't up to much? Had she thought Harriet would pass out again?</p><p>But no one else seemed to have noticed anything.</p><p>"Did you see me take that banshee?" shouted Sinead.</p><p>"And the hand!" said Dinah, waving her own around.</p><p>"And Prince in that hat!"</p><p>"And my mummy!"</p><p>"I wonder why Professor Howell’s frightened of crystal balls?" said Leroy thoughtfully.</p><p>"That was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ronnie excitedly as they made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.</p><p>"She seems like a very good teacher," said Hermes approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the Boggart –"</p><p>"What would it have been for you?" said Ronnie, sniggering. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Flight of the Fat Lady</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J.K.Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. Only Dahlia Black and her gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Howell.</p><p>“Look at the state of her robes," Black would say in a loud whisper as Professor Howell passed. "She dresses like our old house elf."</p><p>But no one else cared that Professor Howell’s robes were patched and frayed. Her next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After Boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps they moved on to Kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.</p><p>Harriet only wished she was as happy with some of her other classes. Worst of all was Potions. Prince was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt why. The story of the Boggart assuming Prince’s shape, and the way that Netta had dressed it in her grandfather’s clothes, had traveled through the school like wildfire. Prince didn't seem to find it funny. Her eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Howell’s name, and she was bullying Netta worse than ever.</p><p>Harriet was also growing to dread the hours she spent in Professor Trelawney's stifling tower room, deciphering lopsided shapes and symbols, trying to ignore the way Professor Trelawney's enormous eyes filled with tears every time he looked at her. She couldn't like Professor Trelawney, even though he was treated with respect bordering on reverence by many of the class. Paavan Patil and Leroy Brown had taken to haunting Professor Trelawney's tower room at lunch times, and always returned with annoyingly superior looks on their faces, as though they knew things the others didn't. They had also started using hushed voices whenever they spoke to Harriet, as though she were on her deathbed.</p><p>Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost her confidence. They were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.</p><p>"Why would anyone bother looking after them?" said Ronnie, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworms' throats.</p><p>At the start of October, however, Harriet had something else to occupy her, something so enjoyable it more than made up for her unsatisfactory classes. The Quidditch season was approaching, and Olivia Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor team, called a meeting on Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season.</p><p>There were seven people on a Quidditch team: three Chasers, whose job it was to score goals by putting the Quaffle (a red, football-sized ball) through one of the fifty-foot-high hoops at each end of the field; two Beaters, who were equipped with heavy bats to repel the Bludgers (two heavy black balls that zoomed around trying to attack the players); a Keeper, who defended the goal posts, and the Seeker, who had the hardest job of all, that of catching the Golden Snitch, a tiny, winged, walnut-sized ball, whose capture ended the game and earned the Seeker's team an extra one hundred and fifty points.</p><p>Olivia Wood was a burly seventeen-year-old, now in her seventh and final year at Hogwarts. There was a quiet sort of desperation in her voice as she addressed her six fellow team members in the chilly locker rooms on the edge of the darkening Quidditch field.</p><p>"This is our last chance — my last chance — to win the Quidditch Cup," she told them, striding up and down in front of them. "I'll be leaving at the end of this year. I'll never get another shot at it."</p><p>"Gryffindor hasn't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world — injuries — then the tournament getting called off last year." Wood swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to her throat. "But we also know we've got the best — ruddy — team — in — the — school," she said, punching a fist into her other hand, the old manic glint back in her eye. "We've got three superb Chasers."</p><p>Wood pointed at Alec Spinner, Anthony Johnson, and Cato Bell.</p><p>"We've got two unbeatable Beaters."</p><p>"Stop it, Olivia, you're embarrassing us," said Frankie and Georgina Prewett together, pretending to blush.</p><p>"And we've got a Seeker who has never failed to win us a match!" Wood rumbled, glaring at Harriet with a kind of furious pride. "And me," she added as an afterthought.</p><p>"We think you're very good too, Olivia," said Georgina.</p><p>"Spanking good Keeper," said Frankie.</p><p>"The point is," Wood went on, resuming her pacing, "the Quidditch Cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Harriet joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our name on the thing…"</p><p>Wood spoke so dejectedly that even Frankie and Georgina looked sympathetic.</p><p>"Olivia, this year's our year," said Frankie.</p><p>"We'll do it, Olivia!" said Anthony.</p><p>"Definitely," said Harriet.</p><p>Full of determination, the team started training sessions, three evenings a week. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker, but no amount of mud, wind, or rain could tarnish Harriet’s wonderful vision of finally winning the huge, silver Quidditch Cup.</p><p>Harriet returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after training, cold and stiff but pleased with the way practice had gone, to find the room buzzing excitedly.</p><p>"What's happened?" she asked Ronnie and Hermes, who were sitting in two of the best chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy.</p><p>"First Hogsmeade weekend," said Ronnie, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old bulletin board. "End of October. Halloween."</p><p>"Excellent," said Frankie, who had followed Harriet through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."</p><p>Harriet threw herself into a chair beside Ronnie, her high spirits ebbing away. Hermes seemed to read her mind.</p><p>"Harriet, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time," he said. "They're bound to catch Black soon. She’s been sighted once already."</p><p>"Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," said Ronnie. "Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harriet. The next one might not be for ages –"</p><p>"Ronnie!" said Hermes. "Harriet’s supposed to stay in school –"</p><p>"She can't be the only third year left behind," said Ronnie. "Ask McGonagall, go on, Harriet –"</p><p>"Yeah, I think I will," said Harriet, making up her mind.</p><p>Hermes opened his mouth to argue, but at that moment Crookshanks leapt lightly onto his lap. A large, dead spider was dangling from his mouth.</p><p>"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" said Ronnie, scowling.</p><p>"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" said Hermes.</p><p>Crookshanks; slowly chewed up the spider, his yellow eyes fixed insolently on Ronnie.</p><p>"Just keep him over there, that's all," said Ronnie irritably, turning back to her star chart. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."</p><p>Harriet yawned. She really wanted to go to bed, but she still had her own star chart to complete. She pulled her bag toward her, took out parchment, ink, and quill, and started work.</p><p>"You can copy mine, if you like," said Ronnie, labeling her last star with a flourish and shoving the chart toward Harriet.</p><p>Hermes, who disapproved of copying, pursed his lips but didn't say anything. Crookshanks was still staring unblinkingly at Ronnie, flicking the end of his bushy tail. Then, without warning, he pounced.</p><p>"OY!" Ronnie roared, seizing her bag as Crookshanks sank four sets of claws deep inside it and began tearing ferociously. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"</p><p>Ronnie tried to pull the bag away from Crookshanks, but Crookshanks clung on, spitting and slashing.</p><p>"Ronnie, don't hurt him!" squealed Hermes; the whole common room was watching; Ronnie whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top —</p><p>"CATCH THAT CAT!" Ronnie yelled as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table, and chased after the terrified Scabbers.</p><p>Georgina Prewett made a lunge for Crookshanks but missed; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a halt, crouched low on his bandy legs, and started making furious swipes beneath it with his front paw.</p><p>Ronnie and Hermes hurried over; Hermes grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ronnie threw herself onto her stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.</p><p>"Look at him!" she said furiously to Hermes, dangling Scabbers in front of him. "He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!"</p><p>"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" said Hermes, his voice shaking. "All cats chase rats, Ronnie!"</p><p>"There's something funny about that animal!" said Ronnie, who was trying to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into her pocket. "It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!"</p><p>"Oh, what rubbish," said Hermes impatiently. "Crookshanks could smell him, Ronnie, how else d'you think –"</p><p>"That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" said Ronnie, ignoring the people around her, who were starting to giggle. "And Scabbers was here first, and he's ill!"</p><p>Ronnie marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. </p><p>Ronnie was still in a bad mood with Hermes next day. She barely talked to him all through Herbology, even though she, Harriet, and Hermes were working together on the same Puffapod.</p><p>"How's Scabbers?" Hermes asked timidly as they stripped fat pink pods from the plants and emptied the shining beans into a wooden pail.</p><p>"He's hiding at the bottom of my bed, shaking," said Ronnie angrily, missing the pail and scattering beans over the greenhouse floor.</p><p>"Careful, Prewett, careful!" cried Professor Sprout as the beans burst into bloom before their very eyes.</p><p>They had Transfiguration next. Harriet, who had resolved to ask Professor McGonagall after the lesson whether she could go into Hogsmeade with the rest, joined the line outside the class trying to decide how she was going to argue her case. She was distracted, however, by a disturbance at the front of the line.</p><p>Leroy Brown seemed to be crying. Paavan had his arm around him and was explaining something to Sinead Finnigan and Dinah Thomas, who were looking very serious.</p><p>"What's the matter, Leroy?" said Hermes anxiously as he, Harriet, and Ronnie went to join the group.</p><p>"He got a letter from home this morning," Paavan whispered. "It's his rabbit, Binky. He's been killed by a fox."</p><p>"Oh," said Hermes, "I'm sorry, Leroy."</p><p>"I should have known!" said Leroy tragically. "You know what day it is?"</p><p>"Er –"</p><p>"The sixteenth of October! 'That thing you're dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!' Remember? He was right, he was right!"</p><p>The whole class was gathered around Leroy now. Sinead shook her head seriously. Hermes hesitated; then he said, "You — you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?"</p><p>"Well, not necessarily by a fox," said Leroy, looking up at Hermes with streaming eyes, "but I was obviously dreading him dying, wasn't I?"</p><p>"Oh," said Hermes. He paused again. Then —<br/>
"Was Binky an old rabbit?"</p><p>"N — no!" sobbed Leroy. "H — he was only a baby!"</p><p>Paavan tightened his arm around Leroy’s shoulders.</p><p>"But then, why would you dread him dying?" said Hermes.</p><p>Paavan glared at him.</p><p>"Well, look at it logically," said Hermes, turning to the rest of the group. "I mean, Binky didn't even die today, did he? Leroy just got the news today –" Leroy wailed loudly. "and he can't have been dreading it, because it's come as a real shock –"</p><p>"Don't mind Hermes, Leroy," said Ronnie loudly, "he doesn't think other people's pets matter very much."</p><p>Professor McGonagall opened the classroom door at that moment, which was perhaps lucky; Hermes and Ronnie were looking daggers at each other, and when they got into class, they seated themselves on either side of Harriet and didn't talk to each other for the whole class.</p><p>Harriet still hadn't decided what she was going to say to Professor McGonagall when the bell rang at the end of the lesson, but it was he who brought up the subject of Hogsmeade first.</p><p>"One moment, please!" he called as the class made to leave. "As you're all in my House, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don't forget!"</p><p>Netta put up her hand.</p><p>"Please, Professor, I — I think I've lost –"</p><p>"Your grandfather sent yours to me directly, Fortesque," said Professor McGonagall. "He seemed to think it was safer. Well, that's all, you may leave."</p><p>"Ask him now," Ronnie hissed at Harriet.</p><p>"Oh. but –" Hermes began.</p><p>"Go for it, Harriet," said Ronnie stubbornly.</p><p>Harriet waited for the rest of the class to disappear, then headed nervously for Professor McGonagall's desk.</p><p>"Yes, Evans?" Harriet took a deep breath. “Professor, my aunt and uncle — er — forgot to sign my form," she said.</p><p>Professor McGonagall looked over his square spectacles at her but didn't say anything.</p><p>"So — er — d'you think it would be all right mean, will It be okay if I — if I go to Hogsmeade?"</p><p>Professor McGonagall looked down and began shuffling papers on his desk.</p><p>"I'm afraid not, Evans," he said. "You heard what I said. No form, no visiting the village. That's the rule."</p><p>"But — Professor, my aunt and uncle — you know, they're Muggles, they don't really understand about — about Hogwarts forms and stuff," Harriet said, while Ronnie egged her on with vigorous nods. "If you said I could go –"</p><p>"But I don't say so," said Professor McGonagall, standing up and piling his papers neatly into a drawer. "The form clearly states that the parent or guardian must give permission." He turned to look at her, with an odd expression on his face. Was it pity? "I'm sorry, Evans, but that's my final word. You had better hurry, or you'll be late for your next lesson."</p><p>There was nothing to be done. Ronnie called Professor McGonagall a lot of names that greatly annoyed Hermes; Hermes assumed an 'all-for-the-best' expression that made Ronnie even angrier, and Harriet had to endure everyone in the class talking loudly and happily about what they were going to do first, once they got into Hogsmeade.</p><p>"There's always the feast," said Ronnie, in an effort to cheer Harriet up. "You know, the Halloween feast, in the evening."</p><p>"Yeah," said Harriet gloomily, "great."</p><p>The Halloween feast was always good, but it would taste a lot better if she was coming to it after a day in Hogsmeade with everyone else. Nothing anyone said made her feel any better about being left behind. Dinah Thomas, who was good with a quill, had offered to forge Aunt Verona's signature on the form, but as Harriet had already told Professor McGonagall she hadn't had it signed, that was no good. Ronnie halfheartedly suggested the Invisibility Cloak, but Hermes stamped on that one, reminding Ronnie what Dumbledore had told them about the Dementors being able to see through them. Penelope had what were possibly the least helpful words of comfort.</p><p>"They make a fuss about Hogsmeade, but I assure you, Harriet, it's not all it's cracked up to be," she said seriously. "All right, the sweetshop's rather good, and Zonko's Joke Shop's frankly dangerous, and yes, the Shrieking Shack's always worth a visit, but really, Harriet, apart from that, you're not missing anything."</p><p>On Halloween morning, Harriet awoke with the rest and went down to breakfast, feeling thoroughly depressed, though doing her best to act normally.</p><p>"We'll bring you lots of sweets back from Honeydukes," said Hermes, looking desperately sorry for her.</p><p>"Yeah, loads," said Ronnie. She and Hermes had finally forgotten their squabble about Crookshanks in the face of Harriet’s difficulties. </p><p>"Don't worry about me," said Harriet, in what she hoped was at, offhand voice, "I'll see you at the feast. Have a good time."</p><p>She accompanied them to the entrance hall, where Filch, the caretaker, was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure that no one was sneaking out who shouldn't be going.</p><p>"Staying here, Evans?" shouted Black, who was standing in line with Crabbe and Goyle. "Scared of passing the Dementors?"</p><p>Harriet ignored her and made her solitary way up the marble staircase, through the deserted corridors, and back to Gryffindor Tower.</p><p>"Password?" said the Fat Lady, jerking out of a doze. </p><p>"Fortuna Major," said Harriet listlessly.</p><p>The portrait swung open and she climbed through the hole into the common room. It was full of chattering first-and second-years, and a few older students, who had obviously visited Hogsmeade so often the novelty had worn off.</p><p>"Harriet! Harriet! Hi, Harriet!"</p><p>It was Colette Creevey, a second year who was deeply in awe of Harriet and never missed an opportunity to speak to her.</p><p>"Aren't you going to Hogsmeade, Harriet? Why not? Hey –" Colette looked eagerly around at her friends — "you can come and sit with us, if you like, Harriet!"</p><p>"Er — no, thanks, Colette," said Harriet, who wasn't in the mood to have a lot of people staring avidly at the scar on her forehead. "I — I've got to go to the library, got to get some work done."</p><p>After that, she had no choice but to turn right around and head back out of the portrait hole again.</p><p>"What was the point of waking me up?" the Fat Lady called grumpily after her as she walked away.</p><p>Harriet wandered dispiritedly toward the library, but halfway there she changed her mind; she didn't feel like working. She turned around and came face-to-face with Filch, who had obviously just seen off the last of the Hogsmeade visitors.</p><p>"What are you doing?" Filch snarled suspiciously.</p><p>"Nothing," said Harriet truthfully.</p><p>"Nothing!" spat Filch, her jowls quivering unpleasantly. "A likely story! Sneaking around on your own — why aren't you in Hogsmeade buying Stink Pellets and Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms like the rest of your nasty little friends?"</p><p>Harriet shrugged.</p><p>"Well, get back to your common room where you belong!" snapped Filch, and she stood glaring until Harriet had passed out of sight.</p><p>But Harriet didn't go back to the common room; she climbed a staircase, thinking vaguely of visiting the Owlery to see Hedwig, and was walking along another corridor when a voice from inside one of the rooms said, "Harriet?"</p><p>Harriet doubled back to see who had spoken and met Professor Howell, looking around her office door.</p><p>"What are you doing?" said Howell, though in a very different voice from Filch. "Where are Ronnie and Hermes?"</p><p>"Hogsmeade," said Harriet, in a would-be casual voice.</p><p>"Ah," said Howell. She considered Harriet for a moment. "Why don't you come in? I've just taken delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson."</p><p>"A what?" said Harriet.</p><p>She followed Howell into her office. In the corner stood a very large tank of water. A sickly green creature with sharp little horns had its face pressed against the glass, pulling faces and flexing its long, spindly fingers.</p><p>"Water demon," said Howell, surveying the Grindylow thoughtfully. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the Kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."</p><p>The Grindylow bared its green teeth and then buried itself in a tangle of weeds in a corner.</p><p>"Cup of tea?" Howell said, looking around for her kettle. "I was just thinking of making one."</p><p>"All right," said Harriet awkwardly.</p><p>Howell tapped the kettle with her wand and a blast of steam issued suddenly from the spout.</p><p>"Sit down," said Howell, taking the lid off a dusty tin. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid — but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?"</p><p>Harriet looked at her. Howell’s eyes were twinkling.</p><p>"How did you know about that?" Harriet asked.</p><p>"Professor McGonagall told me," said Howell, passing Harriet a chipped mug of tea. "You're not worried, are you?"</p><p>"No," said Harriet.</p><p>She thought for a moment of telling Howell about the dog she'd seen in Magnolia Crescent but decided not to. She didn't want Howell to think she was a coward, especially since Howell already seemed to think she couldn't cope with a Boggart.</p><p>Something of Harriet’s thoughts seemed to have shown on her face, because Howell said, "Anything worrying you, Harriet?"</p><p>"No," Harriet lied. She drank a bit of tea and watched the Grindylow brandishing a fist at him. "Yes," she said suddenly, putting her tea down on Howell’s desk. "You know that day we fought the Boggart?"</p><p>"Yes," said Howell slowly.</p><p>"Why didn't you let me fight it?" said Harriet abruptly.</p><p>Howell raised her eyebrows.</p><p>"I would have thought that was obvious, Harriet," she said, sounding surprised.</p><p>Harriet, who had expected Howell to deny that she'd done any such thing, was taken aback.</p><p>"Why?" she said again.</p><p>"Well," said Howell, frowning slightly, "I assumed that if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort."</p><p>Harriet stared. Not only was this the last answer she'd expected, but Howell had said Voldemort's name. The only person Harriet had ever heard say the name aloud (apart from herself) was Professor Dumbledore.</p><p>"Clearly, I was wrong," said Howell, still frowning at Harriet. "But I didn't think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the staffroom. I imagined that people would panic."</p><p>"I didn't think of Voldemort," said Harriet honestly. "I — I remembered those Dementors."</p><p>"I see," said Howell thoughtfully. "Well, well…I'm impressed." She smiled slightly at the look of surprise on Harriet’s face. "That suggests that what you fear most of all is — fear. Very wise, Harriet."</p><p>Harriet didn't know what to say to that, so she drank some more tea.</p><p>"So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the Boggart?" said Howell shrewdly.</p><p>"Well…yeah," said Harriet. She was suddenly feeling a lot happier. "Professor Howell, you know the Dementors –"</p><p>She was interrupted by a knock on the door.</p><p>"Come in," called Howell.</p><p>The door opened, and in came Prince. She was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Harriet, her black eyes narrowing.</p><p>"Ah, Stevanie," said Howell, smiling. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"</p><p>Prince set down the smoking goblet, her eyes wandering between Harriet and Howell.</p><p>"I was just showing Harriet my Grindylow," said Howell pleasantly, pointing at the tank.</p><p>"Fascinating," said Prince, without looking at it. "You should drink that directly, Howell."</p><p>"Yes, Yes, I will," said Howell.</p><p>"I made an entire cauldronful," Prince continued. "If you need more."</p><p>"I should probably have some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Stevanie."</p><p>"Not at all," said Prince, but there was a look in her eye Harriet didn't like. She backed out of the room, unsmiling and watchful. </p><p>Harriet looked curiously at the goblet. Howell smiled.</p><p>"Professor Prince has very kindly concocted a potion for me," she said. "I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex." She picked up the goblet and sniffed it. "Pity sugar makes it useless," she added, taking a sip and shuddering.</p><p>"Why –?" Harriet began. Howell looked at her and answered the unfinished question.</p><p>"I've been feeling a bit off-color," she said. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Prince; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it."</p><p>Professor Howell took another sip and Harriet had a crazy urge to knock the goblet out of her hands.</p><p>"Professor Prince’s very interested in the Dark Arts," she blurted out.</p><p>"Really?" said Howell, looking only mildly interested as she took another gulp of potion.</p><p>"Some people reckon –" Harriet hesitated, then plunged recklessly on, "some people reckon she'd do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."</p><p>Howell drained the goblet and pulled a face.</p><p>"Disgusting," she said. "Well, Harriet, I'd better get back to work. See you at the feast later."</p><p>"Right," said Harriet, putting down her empty teacup.</p><p>The empty goblet was still smoking.</p><p>"There you go," said Ronnie. "We got as much as we could carry."</p><p>A shower of brilliantly colored sweets fell into Harriet’s lap. It was dusk, and Ronnie and Hermes had just turned up in the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind and looking as though they'd had the time of their lives.</p><p>"Thanks," said Harriet, picking up a packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. "What's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?"</p><p>By the sound of it — everywhere. Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot butterbeer, and many places besides.</p><p>"The post office, Harriet! About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all color-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!"</p><p>"Honeydukes has got a new kind of fudge; they were giving out free samples, there's a bit, look –"</p><p>"We think we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks –"</p><p>"Wish we could have brought you some butterbeer, really warms you up –"</p><p>"What did you do?" said Hermes, looking anxious. "Did you get any work done?"</p><p>"No," said Harriet. "Howell made me a cup of tea in her office. And then Prince came in…"</p><p>She told them all about the goblet. Ronnie’s mouth fell open.</p><p>"Howell drank it?" She gasped. "Is she mad?"</p><p>Hermes checked his watch.</p><p>"We'd better go down, you know, the feast'll be starting in five minutes.” They hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, still discussing Prince.</p><p>"But if she — you know –" Hermes dropped his voice, glancing nervously around, "if she was trying to — to poison Howell — she wouldn't have done it in front of Harriet."</p><p>"Yeah, maybe," said Harriet as they reached the entrance hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.</p><p>The food was delicious; even Hermes and Ronnie, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets, managed second helpings of everything. Harriet kept glancing at the staff table. Professor Howell looked cheerful and as well as she ever did; she was talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher. Harriet moved her eyes along the table, to the place where Prince sat. Was she imagining it, or were Prince’s eyes flickering toward Howell more often than was natural?</p><p>The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.</p><p>It had been such a pleasant evening that Harriet’s good mood couldn't even be spoiled by Black, who shouted through the crowd as they all left the hall, "The Dementors send their love, Evans!"</p><p>Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, they found it jammed with students.</p><p>"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Ronnie curiously.</p><p>Harriet peered over the heads in front of her. The portrait seemed to be closed.</p><p>"Let me through, please," came Penelope’s voice, and she came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password — excuse me, I'm Head Girl –"</p><p>And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Penelope say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."</p><p>People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tiptoe.</p><p>"What's going on?" said Jerry, who had just arrived.</p><p>A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let her through, and Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes moved closer to see what the trouble was.</p><p>"Oh, my –" Hermes grabbed Harriet's arm.</p><p>The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; great chunks of it had been torn away completely. Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, her eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Howell, and Prince hurrying toward her.</p><p>"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell her to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."</p><p>"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.</p><p>It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at the sight of wreckage or worry.</p><p>"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle. "Ashamed, Your Headship, ma’am. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing." he added unconvincingly.</p><p>"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.</p><p>"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "She got very angry when she wouldn't let her in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper she's got, that Siri Black."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Grim Defeat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J.K. Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Prefessor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.</p><p>"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," she added to Penelope, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."</p><p>Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."</p><p>One casual wave of her wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.</p><p>"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind her.</p><p>The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.</p><p>"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Penelope. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"</p><p>"C'mon," Ronnie said to Harriet and Hermes; they seized three sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.</p><p>"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermes whispered anxiously.</p><p>"Dumbledore obviously thinks she might be," said Ronnie.</p><p>"It's very lucky she picked tonight, you know," said Hermes as they climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the tower..."</p><p>"I reckon she's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ronnie. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise she'd have come bursting in here."</p><p>Hermes shuddered.</p><p>All around them, people were asking one another the same question: "How did she get in?"</p><p>"Maybe she knows how to apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away, "Just appear our of thin air, you know."</p><p>"Disguised herself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth year.</p><p>"She could've flown in," suggested Dinah Thomas.</p><p>"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts: A History?" said Hermes crossly to Harriet and Ronnie.</p><p>"Probably," said Ronnie. "Why?"</p><p>"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," said Hermes. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen her fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered..."</p><p>"The light's are going out now!" Penelope shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"</p><p>The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. What with that, and the whispering that still filled the hall, Harriet felt as through she were sleeping outdoors in a light wind.</p><p>Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in. Harriet watched her looking around for Penelope, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Penelope was only a short way away from Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes, who quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore's footsteps drew nearer.</p><p>"Any sign of her, Professor?" asked Penelope in a whisper.</p><p>"No. All well here?"</p><p>"Everything under control, miss."</p><p>"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."</p><p>"And the Fat Lady, miss?"</p><p>"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so she attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mrs. Filch restore her."</p><p>Harriet heard the door of the hall creak open again, and more footsteps.</p><p>"Headmistress?" It was Prince. Harriet kept quite still, listening hard. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. She's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."</p><p>"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawny's room? The Owlery?"</p><p>"All searched..."</p><p>"Very well, Stevanie. I didn't really expect Black to linger."</p><p>"Have you any theory as to how she got in, Professor?" asked Prince.</p><p>Harriet raised her head very slightly off her arms to free her other ear.</p><p>"Many, Stevanie, each of them as unlikely as the next."</p><p>Harriet opened her eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood; Dumbledore's back was to her, but she could see Penelope's face, rapt with attention, and Prince's profile, which looked angry.</p><p>"You remember the conversation we had, Headmistress, just before - ah - the start of term?" said Prince, who was barely opening her lips, as though trying to black Penelope out of the conversation.</p><p>"I do, Stevanie," said Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in her voice.</p><p>"It seems - almost impossible - that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed -"</p><p>"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," said Dumbledore, and her tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Prince didn't reply. "I must go down to the Dementors," said Dumbledore. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."</p><p>"Didn't they want to help, miss?" said Penelope.</p><p>"Oh yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmistress."</p><p>Penelope looked slightly abashed. Dumbledore left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Prince stood for a moment, watching the headmistress with an expression of deep resentment on her face; then she too left.</p><p>Harriet glanced sideways at Ronnie and Hermes. Both of them had their eyes open too, reflecting the starry ceiling.</p><p>"What was all that about?" Ronnie mouthed.</p><p>The school talked of nothing but Siri Black for the next few days. The theories about how she had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hancock Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling everyone who'd listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.</p><p>The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat grey pony. Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.</p><p>"He's a complete lunatic," said Sinead Finnigan angrily to Penelope. "Can't we get anyone else?"</p><p>"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Penelope. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."</p><p>Sir Cadogan, however, was the least of Harriet's worries. She was now being closely watched. Teacher found excuses to walk along corridors with her, and Penelope Prewett (acting, Harriet suspected, on her father's orders) was tailing her everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog. To cap it all, Professor McGonagall summoned Harriet into his office, with such a somber expression on his face Harriet thought someone must have died.</p><p>"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Evans," he said in a very serious voice. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Siri Black -"</p><p>"I know she'd after me," said Harriet wearily. "I heard Ronnie's mum telling her dad. Mrs. Prewett works for the Ministry of Magic."</p><p>Professor McGonagall seemed very taken aback. He stared at Harriet for a moment or two, then said, "I see! Well, in that case, Evans, you'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be practicing Quidditch in the evenings. Out on the field with only your team members, it's very exposed, Evans -"</p><p>"We've got our first match on Saturday!" said Harriet, outraged. "I've got to train, Professor!"</p><p>Professor McGonagall considered her intently. Harriet knew he was deeply interested in the Gryffindor team's prospects; it had been he, after all, who'd suggested her as Seeker in the first place. She waited, holding her breath.</p><p>"Hmm..." Professor McGonagall stood up and stared out of the window at the Quidditch field, just visible through the rain. "Well... goodness knows, I'd like to see us win the Cup at last... but all the same, Evans... I'd be happier if a teacher were present. I'll ask Master Hooch to oversee your training sessions."</p><p>The weather worsened steadily as the first Quidditch match drew nearer. Undaunted, the Gryffindor team was training harder than ever under the eye of Master Hooch. Then, at their final training session before Saturday's match, Olivia Wood gave her team some unwelcome news.</p><p>"We're not playing Slytherin!" she told them, looking very angry. "Flint's just been to see me. We're playing Hufflepuff instead."</p><p>"Why?" chorused the rest of the team.</p><p>"Flint's excuse is that their Seeker's arm's still injured," said Wood, grinding her teeth furiously. "But it's obvious why they're doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances..."</p><p>There had been strong winds and heavy rain all day, and as Wood spoke, they hear a distant rumble of thunder.</p><p>"There's nothing wrong with Black's arm!" said Harriet furiously. "She's faking it!"</p><p>"I know that, but we can't prove it," said Wood bitterly, "And we've been practicing all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and instead it's Hufflepuff, and their Style's quite different. They've got a new Captain and Seeker, Celia Diggory -"</p><p>Anthony, Alec, and Cato suddenly nudged each other laughing.</p><p>"What?" said Wood, frowning at this lighthearted behavior.</p><p>"She's that tall, pretty one, isn't she?" said Anthony</p><p>"Strong and silent," said Cato, and they started to laugh again.</p><p>"She's only silent because she's too thick to string two words together," said Frankie impatiently. "I don't know why you're worried, Olivia, Hufflepuff is a pushover. Last time we played them, Harriet caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?"</p><p>"We were playing in completely different conditions!” Wood shouted, her eyes bulging slightly. “Diggory’s put a very strong side together! She’s an excellent Seeker! I was afraid you’d take it like this! We mustn’t relax! We must keep our focus! Slytherin is trying to wrong-foot us! We must win!”</p><p>“Olivia, calm down!” said Frankie, looking slightly alarmed. “We’re taking Hufflepuff very seriously. Seriously.” </p><p>The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit. The Slytherin team was looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Black.</p><p>“Ah, if only my arm was feeling a bit better!” she sighed as the gale outside pounded the windows. </p><p>Harriet had no room in her head to worry about anything except the match tomorrow. Olivia Wood kept hurrying up to her between classes and giving her tips. The third time this happened, Wood talked for so long that Harriet suddenly realized she was ten minutes late for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and set off at a run with Wood shouting after her, “Diggory’s got a very fast swerve, Harriet, so you might want to try looping her—”</p><p>Harriet skidded to a halt outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulled the door open, and dashed inside.</p><p>“Sorry I’m late, Professor Howell. I —”</p><p>But it wasn’t Professor Howell who looked up at her from the teacher’s desk; it was Prince.</p><p>“This lesson began ten minutes ago, Evans, so I think we’ll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down.”</p><p>But Harriet didn’t move.</p><p>“Where’s Professor Howell?” she said.</p><p>“She says she is feeling too ill to teach today,” said Prince with a twisted smile. “I believe I told you to sit down?”</p><p>But Harriet stayed where she was.</p><p>“What’s wrong with her?”</p><p>Prince's black eyes glittered.</p><p>“Nothing life-threatening,” she said, looking as though she wished it were. “Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty.”</p><p>Harriet walked slowly to her seat and sat down. Prince looked around at the class.</p><p>“As I was saying before Evans interrupted, Professor Howell has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far —”</p><p>“Please, miss, we’ve done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows,” said Hermes quickly, “and we’re just about to start —”</p><p>“Be quiet,” said Prince coldly. “I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on<br/>
Professor Howell’s lack of organization.”</p><p>"She's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dinah Thomas boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Prince looked more menacing than ever.</p><p>"You are easily satisfied. Howell is hardly overtaxing you - I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss -"</p><p>Harriet watched her flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which she must know they hadn't covered.</p><p>"- werewolves," said Prince.</p><p>"But, miss," said Hermes, seemingly unable to restrain himself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start Hinkypunks -"</p><p>"Mr. Granger," said Prince in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." She glanced around again. "All of you! Now!"</p><p>With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.</p><p>"Which of you can tell me how distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Prince.</p><p>Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermes, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air.</p><p>"Anyone?" Prince said, ignoring Hermes. Her twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between -"</p><p>"We told you," said Paavan suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on -"</p><p>"Silence!" snarled Prince. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..."</p><p>"Please, miss," said Hermes, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf -"</p><p>"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Mr. Granger," said Prince coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."</p><p>Hermes went very red, put down his hand, and stared at the floor with his eyes full of tears. It was a mark of how much the class loathed Prince that they were all glaring at her, because every one of them had called Hermes a know-it-all at least once, and Ronnie, who told Hermes he was a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, "You asked us a question and he knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"</p><p>The class knew instantly she'd gone too far. Prince advanced on Ronnie slowly, and the room held its breath.</p><p>"Detention, Prewett," Prince said silkily, her face very close to Ronnie's. "And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach class again, you'll be very sorry indeed."</p><p>No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Prince prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Howell.</p><p>"Very poorly explained... That is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia... Professor Lupin gave this eight of ten? I wouldn't have given it three..."</p><p>When the bell rang at last, Prince held them back.</p><p>"You will each write an essay, to be handed into me, on the ways you recognise and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Prewett, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."</p><p>Harriet and Hermes left the room with the rest of the class, who waited until they were well out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirade about Prince.</p><p>“Prince's never been like this with any of our other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if she did want the job,” Harriet said to Hermes. “Why’s she got it in for Howell? D’you think this is all because of the Boggart?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” said Hermes pensively. “But I really hope Professor Howell gets better soon…”</p><p>Ronnie caught up with them five minutes later, in a towering rage.</p><p>“D’you know what that —” (she called Prince something that made Hermes say “Ronnie!”) “— is making me do? I’ve got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!” She was breathing deeply, her fists clenched. “Why couldn’t Black have hidden in Prince's office, eh? She could have finished her off for us!” </p><p>Harriet woke extremely early the next morning; so early that it was still dark. For a moment she thought the roaring of the wind had woken her. Then she felt a cold breeze on the back of her neck and sat bolt upright — Peeves the Poltergeist had been floating next to her, blowing hard in her ear.</p><p>“What did you do that for?” said Harriet furiously. Peeves puffed out his cheeks, blew hard, and zoomed backward out of the room, cackling.</p><p>Harriet fumbled for her alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four. Cursing Peeves, she rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now that she was awake, to ignore the sounds of the thunder rumbling overhead, the pounding of the wind against the castle walls, and the distant creaking of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. In a few hours she would be out on the Quidditch field, battling through that gale. Finally, she gave up any thought of more sleep, got up, dressed, picked up her Nimbus Two Thousand, and walked quietly out of the dormitory.</p><p>As Harriet opened the door, something brushed against her leg. She bent down just in time to grab Crookshanks by the end of his bushy tail and drag him outside.</p><p>“You know, I reckon Ronnie was right about you,” Harriet told Crookshanks suspiciously. “There are plenty of mice around this place — go and chase them. Go on,” she added, nudging Crookshanks down the spiral staircase with her foot. “Leave Scabbers alone.”</p><p>The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. Harriet knew better than to think the match would be canceled; Quidditch matches weren’t called off for trifles like thunderstorms. Nevertheless, she was starting to feel very apprehensive. Wood had pointed out Celia Diggory to her in the corridor; Diggory was a fifth year and a lot bigger than Harriet. Seekers were usually light and speedy, but Diggory’s weight would be an advantage in this weather because she was less likely to be blown off course.</p><p>Harriet whiled away the hours until dawn in front of the fire, getting up every now and then to stop Crookshanks from sneaking up the boys’ staircase again. At long last Harriet thought it must be time for breakfast, so she headed through the portrait hole alone.</p><p>“Stand and fight, you mangy cur!” yelled Sir Cadogan.</p><p>“Oh, shut up,” Harriet yawned.</p><p>She revived a bit over a large bowl of porridge, and by the time she’d started on toast, the rest of the team had turned up.</p><p>“It’s going to be a tough one,” said Wood, who wasn’t eating anything. </p><p>“Stop worrying, Olivia,” said Alec soothingly, “we don’t mind a bit of rain.”</p><p>But it was considerably more than a bit of rain. Such was the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns toward the Quidditch field, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went. Just before she entered the locker room, Harriet saw Black, Crabbe, and Goyle, laughing and pointing at him from under an enormous umbrella on their way to the stadium.</p><p>The team changed into their scarlet robes and waited for Wood’s usual pre-match pep talk, but it didn’t come. She tried to speak several times, made an odd gulping noise, then shook her head hopelessly and beckoned them to follow her.</p><p>The wind was so strong that they staggered sideways as they walked out onto the field. If the crowd was cheering, they couldn’t hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder. Rain was splattering over Harriet’s glasses. How on earth was she going to see the Snitch in this?</p><p>The Hufflepuffs were approaching from the opposite side of the field, wearing canary-yellow robes. The Captains walked up to each other and shook hands; Diggory smiled at Wood but Wood now looked as though he had lockjaw and merely nodded. Harriet saw Master Hooch’s mouth form the words, “Mount Your brooms.” She pulled her right foot out of the mud with a squelch and swung it over her Nimbus Two Thousand. Master Hooch put his whistle to his lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant — they were off.</p><p>Harriet rose fast, but her Nimbus was swerving slightly with the wind. She held it as steady as she could and turned, squinting into the rain.</p><p>Within five minutes Harriet was soaked to his skin and frozen, hardly able to see her teammates, let alone the tiny Snitch. She flew backward and forward across the field past blurred red and yellow shapes, with no idea of what was happening in the rest of the game. She couldn’t hear the commentary over the wind. The crowd was hidden beneath a sea of cloaks and battered umbrellas. Twice Harriet came very close to being unseated by a Bludger; her vision was so clouded by the rain on her glasses she hadn’t seen them coming.</p><p>She lost track of time. It was getting harder and harder to hold her broom straight. The sky was getting darker, as though night had decided to come early. Twice Harriet nearly hit another player, without knowing whether it was a teammate or opponent; everyone was now so wet, and the rain so thick, she could hardly tell them apart…</p><p>With the first flash of lightning came the sound of Master Hooch’s whistle; Harriet could just see the outline of Wood through the thick rain, gesturing her to the ground. The whole team splashed down into the mud.</p><p>“I called for time-out!” Wood roared at her team. “Come on, under here —” </p><p>They huddled at the edge of the field under a large umbrella; Harriet took off her glasses and wiped them hurriedly on her robes.</p><p>“What’s the score?”</p><p>“We’re fifty points up,” said Wood, “but unless we get the Snitch soon, we’ll be playing into the night.”</p><p>“I’ve got no chance with these on,” Harriet said exasperatedly, waving her glasses.</p><p>At that very moment, Hermes appeared at her shoulder; he was holding his cloak over his<br/>
head and was, inexplicably, beaming.</p><p>“I’ve had an idea, Harriet! Give me your glasses, quick!”</p><p>She handed them to him, and as the team watched in amazement, Hermes tapped them with his wand and said, “Impervius!”</p><p>“There!” he said, handing them back to Harriet. “They’ll repel water!”</p><p>Wood looked as though she could have kissed him.</p><p>“Brilliant!” she called hoarsely after him as he disappeared into the crowd. “Okay, team, let’s go for it!”</p><p>Hermes' spell had done the trick. Harriet was still numb with cold, still wetter than she’d ever been in her life, but she could see. Full of fresh determination, she urged her broom through the turbulent air, staring in every direction for the Snitch, avoiding a Bludger, ducking beneath Diggory, who was streaking in the opposite direction…</p><p>There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more and more dangerous. Harriet needed to get the Snitch quickly —</p><p>She turned, intending to head back toward the middle of the field, but at that moment, another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and Harriet saw something that distracted her completely, the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats.</p><p>Harriet’s numb hands slipped on the broom handle and her Nimbus dropped a few feet. Shaking her sodden bangs out of her eyes, she squinted back into the stands. The dog had vanished.</p><p>“Harriet!” came Wood’s anguished yell from the Gryffindor goal posts. “Harriet, behind you!”</p><p>Harriet looked wildly around. Celia Diggory was pelting up the field, and a tiny speck of gold was shimmering in the rain-filled air between them…</p><p>With a jolt of panic, Harriet threw herself flat to the broom handle and zoomed toward the Snitch.</p><p>“Come on!” she growled at her Nimbus as the rain whipped her face. “Faster!”</p><p>But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Harriet had gone suddenly deaf — what was going on?</p><p>And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over her, inside her, just as she became aware of something moving on the field below…</p><p>Before she’d had time to think, Harriet had taken her eyes off the Snitch and looked down.</p><p>At least a hundred Dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at her, were standing beneath her. It was as though freezing water were rising in her chest, cutting at her insides. And then she heard it again… Someone was screaming, screaming inside her head… a man…</p><p>“Not Harriet, not Harriet, please not Harriet!”</p><p>“Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…”</p><p>“Not Harriet, please no, take me, kill me instead —”</p><p>Numbing, swirling white mist was filling Harriet’s brain… What was she doing? Why was she flying? She needed to help him… He was going to die… He was going to be murdered…</p><p>She was falling, falling through the icy mist.</p><p>“Not Harriet! Please… have mercy… have mercy…”</p><p>A shrill voice was laughing, the man was screaming, and Harriet knew no more.</p><p>“Lucky the ground was so soft.”</p><p>“I thought she was dead for sure.”</p><p>“But she didn’t even break her glasses.”</p><p>Harriet could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. She didn’t have a clue where she was, or how she’d got there, or what she’d been doing before she got there. All she knew was that every inch of her was aching as though it had been beaten.</p><p>“That was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”</p><p>Scariest… the scariest thing… hooded black figures… cold… screaming…</p><p>Harriet’s eyes snapped open. She was lying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered around her bed. Ronnie and Hermes were also there, looking as though they’d just climbed out of a swimming pool.</p><p>“Harriet!” said Frankie, who looked extremely white underneath, the mud. “How’re you feeling?”</p><p>It was as though Harriet’s memory was on fast forward. The lightning… the Grim… the Snitch… and the Dementors…</p><p>“What happened?” she said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.</p><p>“You fell off,” said Frankie. “Must’ve been — what — fifty feet?”</p><p>“We thought you’d died,” said Alec, who was shaking.</p><p>Hermes made a small, squeaky noise. His eyes were extremely bloodshot.</p><p>“But the match,” said Harriet. “What happened? Are we doing a replay?”</p><p>No one said anything. The horrible truth sank into Harriet like a stone.</p><p>“We didn’t — lose?”</p><p>“Diggory got the Snitch,” said Georgina. “Just after you fell. She didn’t realize what had happened. When she looked back and saw you on the ground, she tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square… even Wood admits it.”</p><p>“Where is Wood?” said Harriet, suddenly realizing she wasn’t there.</p><p>“Still in the showers,” said Frankie. “We think she’s trying to drown herself.”</p><p>Harriet put her face to her knees, her hands gripping her hair. Frankie grabbed her shoulder and shook it roughly.</p><p>“C’mon, Harriet, you’ve never missed the Snitch before.”</p><p>“There had to be one time you didn’t get it,” said Georgina.</p><p>“It’s not over yet,” said Frankie. “We lost by a hundred points.”</p><p>“Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin…”</p><p>“Hufflepuff’ll have to lose by at least two hundred points,” said Georgina.</p><p>“But if they beat Ravenclaw…”</p><p>“No way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff…”</p><p>“It all depends on the points — a margin of a hundred either way —”</p><p>Harriet lay there, not saying a word. They had lost… for the first time ever, she had lost a<br/>
Quidditch match.</p><p>After ten minutes or so, Master Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave her in peace.</p><p>“We’ll come and see you later,” Frankie told her. “Don’t beat yourself up Harriet, you’re still the best Seeker we’ve ever had.”</p><p>The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Master Pomfrey shut the door behind them,<br/>
looking disapproving. Ronnie and Hermes moved nearer to Harriet’s bed.</p><p>“Dumbledore was really angry,” Hermes said in a quaking voice. “I’ve never seen her like<br/>
that before. She ran onto the field as you fell, waved her wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then she whirled her wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away… She was furious they’d come onto the grounds. We heard her -”</p><p>“Then she magicked you onto a stretcher,” said Ronnie. “And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were…”</p><p>Her voice faded, but Harriet hardly noticed. She was thinking about what the Dementors had done to her… about the screaming voice. She looked up and saw Ronnie and Hermes looking at her so anxiously that she quickly cast around for something matter-of-fact to say.</p><p>“Did someone get my Nimbus?”</p><p>Ronnie and Hermes looked quickly at each other. </p><p>“Er -”</p><p>“What?” said Harriet, looking from one to the other.</p><p>“Well… when you fell off, it got blown away,” said Hermes hesitantly.</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“And it hit - it hit - oh, Harriet - it hit the Whomping Willow.”</p><p>Harriet’s insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree that stood alone in the middle of the grounds.</p><p>“And?” she said, dreading the answer.</p><p>“Well, you know the Whomping Willow,” said Ronnie. “It - it doesn’t like being hit.”</p><p>“Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around,” said Hermes in a very small voice.</p><p>Slowly, he reached down for a bag at his feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harriet’s faithful, finally beaten broomstick.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Marauders Map</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J.K. Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Master Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harriet in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend. She didn’t argue or complain, but she wouldn’t let him throw away the shattered remains of her Nimbus Two Thousand. She knew she was being stupid, knew that the Nimbus was beyond repair, but Harriet couldn’t help it; she felt as though she’d lost one of her best friends.</p><p>She had a stream of visitors, all intent on cheering her up. Hagrid sent her a bunch of earwiggy flowers that looked like yellow cabbages, and Jerry Prewett, blushing furiously, turned up with a get-well card he had made himself, which sang shrilly unless Harriet kept it shut under her bowl of fruit. The Gryffindor team visited again on Sunday morning, this time accompanied by Wood, who told Harriet (in a hollow, dead sort of voice) that she didn’t blame her in the slightest. Ronnie and Hermes left Harriet’s bedside only at night. But nothing anyone said or did could make Harriet feel any better, because they knew only half of what was troubling her.</p><p>She hadn’t told anyone about the Grim, not even Ronnie and Hermes, because she knew Ronnie would panic and Hermes would scoff. The fact remained, however, that it had now appeared twice, and both appearances had been followed by near-fatal accidents; the first time, She had nearly been run over by the Knight Bus; the second, fallen fifty feet from her broomstick. Was the Grim going to haunt her until she actually died? Was she going to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder for the beast?</p><p>And then there were the Dementors. Harriet felt sick and humiliated every time she thought of them. Everyone said the Dementors were horrible, but no one else collapsed every time they were near one. No one else heard echoes in their head of their dying parents.</p><p>Because Harriet knew who that screaming voice belonged to now. She had heard his words, heard them over and over again during the night hours in the hospital wing while she lay awake, staring at the strips of moonlight on the ceiling. When the Dementors approached her, she heard the last moments of her father’s life, his attempts to protect her, Harriet, from Lord Voldemort, and Voldemort’s laughter before he murdered him … Harriet dozed fitfully, sinking into dreams full of clammy, rotted hands and petrified pleading, jerking awake to dwell again on her father’s voice.</p><p>It was a relief to return to the noise and bustle of the main school on Monday, where she was forced to think about other things, even if she had to endure Dahlia Black’s taunting. Black was almost beside herself with glee at Gryffindor’s defeat. She had finally taken off her bandages, and celebrated having the full use of both arms again but doing spirited imitations of Harriet falling off her broom. Black spent much of their next Potions class doing Dementor imitations across the dungeon; Ronnie final cracked and flung a large, slippery crocodile heart at Black, which hit her in the face and caused Prince to take fifty points from Gryffindor.</p><p>“If Prince’s teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I’m skiving off,” said Ronnie as they headed toward Howell's classroom after lunch. “Check who’s in there, Hermes.” Hermes peered around the classroom.</p><p>“It’s okay!”</p><p>Professor Howell was back at work. It certainly looked as though she had been ill. Her old robes were hanging more loosely on her and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes; nevertheless, she smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Prince’s behaviour while Howell had been ill.</p><p>“It’s not fair, she was only filling in, why should she give us homework?”</p><p>“We don’t know anything about werewolves –“</p><p>“- two rolls of parchment!”</p><p>“Did you tell Professor Prince we haven’t covered them yet?” Howell asked, frowning slightly.</p><p>The babble broke out again.</p><p>“Yes, but she said we were really behind –“</p><p>“- he wouldn’t listen –“</p><p>“- two rolls of parchment!”</p><p>Professor Howell smiled at the look of indignation on every face.</p><p>“Don’t worry. I’ll speak to Professor Prince. You don’t have to do the essay.”</p><p>“Oh no,” said Hermes, looking very disappointed. “I’ve already finished it!”</p><p>They had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Howell had brought along a glass box containing a Hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he were made out of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.</p><p>“Lures travellers into bogs,” said Professor Howell as they took notes. “You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead – people follow the light – then –“</p><p>The Hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.</p><p>When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Harriet among them, but –</p><p>“Wait a moment, Harriet,” Howell called. “I’d like a word.”</p><p>Harriet doubled back and watched Professor Howell covering the Hinkypunk’s box with a cloth. “I heard about the match,” said Howell, turning back to her desk and starting to pile books into her briefcase, “and I’m sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?”</p><p>“No,” said Harriet. “The tree smashed it to bits.”</p><p>Howell sighed.</p><p>“They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance.”</p><p>“Did you hear about the Dementors too?” said Harriet with difficulty.</p><p>Howell looked at her quickly.</p><p>“Yes, I did. I don’t think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time … furious at her refusal to let them inside the grounds … I suppose they were the reason you fell?”</p><p>“Yes,” said Harriet. She hesitated, and then the question she had to ask burst from her before she could stop herself. “Why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just -?”</p><p>“It has nothing to do with weakness,” said Professor Howell sharply, as though she had read Harriet’s mind. “The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don’t have.”</p><p>A ray of wintery sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating Howell's grey hairs and the lines on her young face.</p><p>“Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can’t see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself – soul-less and evil. You’ll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Harriet, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of.”</p><p>“When they get near me –“ Harriet stared at Howell's desk, her throat tight. “I can hear Voldemort murdering my dad.”</p><p>Howell made a sudden motion with her arm as though to grip Harriet’s shoulder, but thought better of it. There was a moment’s slience, then –</p><p>“Why did they have to come to the match?” said Harriet bitterly.</p><p>“They’re getting hungry,” said Howell coolly, shutting her briefcase with a snap. “Dumbledore won’t let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up ... I don’t think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement … emotions running high … it was their idea of a feast.”</p><p>“Azkaban must be terrible,” Harriet muttered. Howell nodded grimly.</p><p>“The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don’t need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they’re all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheery thought. Most of them go mad within weeks.”</p><p>“But Siri Black escaped from them,” Harriet said slowly. “She got away…”</p><p>Howell's briefcase slipped from the desk; she had to stoop quickly to catch it.</p><p>“Yes,” she said, straightening up, “Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn’t have believed it possible … Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of her powers if she is left with them too long…”</p><p>“You made that Dementor on the train back off,” said Harriet suddenly.</p><p>“There are – certain defences one can use,” said Howell, “But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist.”</p><p>“What defences?” said Harriet at once. “Can you teach me?”</p><p>“I don’t pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Harriet – quite the contrary…”</p><p>“But if the Dementors come to another Quidditch match, I need to be able to fight them –“</p><p>Howell looked into Harriet’s determined face, hesitated, then said, “Well … all right. I’ll try and help. But it’ll have to wait until next term, I’m afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill.”</p><p>What with the promise of anti-Dementor lessons from Howell, the thought that she might never have to hear her father’s death again, and the fact that Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their Quidditch match at the end of November, Harriet’s mood took a definite upturn. Gryffindor were not out of the running after all, although they could not afford to lose another match. Wood became repossessed of her manic energy, and worked her team as hard as ever in the chilly haze of rain that persisted into December. Harriet saw no hint of a Dementor within the grounds. Dumbledore’s anger seemed to be keeping them at their stations at the entrances.</p><p>Two weeks before the end of term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, had already decorated her classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. Both Ronnie and Hermes had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ronnie said it was because she couldn’t stand two weeks with Penelope, and Hermes insisted he needed to use the library, Harriet wasn’t fooled; they were doing it to keep her company, and she was very grateful.</p><p>To everyone’s delight except Harriet’s, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of term.</p><p>“We can do all our Christmas shopping there!” said Hermes. “Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!”</p><p>Resigned to the fact that she would be the only third year staying behind again, Harriet borrowed a copy of Which Broomstick from Wood, and decided to spend the day reading up on the different makes. She had been riding one of the school brooms at team practice, an ancient Shooting Star, which was very slow and jerky; she definitely needed a new broom of her own.</p><p>On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Harriet bid good-bye to Ronnie and Hermes, who were wrapped in cloaks and scarves, then turned up the marble staircase alone, and headed back toward Gryffindor Tower. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet.</p><p>“Psst – Harriet!”</p><p>She turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor, to see Frankie and Georgina peering out at her from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.</p><p>“What are you doing?” said Harriet curiously. “How come you’re not going to Hogsmeade?”</p><p>“We’ve come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go,” said Frankie, with a mysterious wink. “Come in here…”</p><p>She nodded toward an empty classroom to the left of the one-eyed statue. Harriet followed Frankie and Georgina inside. Georgina closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming, to look at Harriet.</p><p>“Early Christmas present for you, Harriet,” she said.</p><p>Frankie pulled something from inside her cloak with a flourish and laid it on one of the desks. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it. Harriet, suspecting one of Frankie and Georgina’s jokes, stared at it.</p><p>“What’s that supposed to be?”</p><p>“This, Harriet, is the secret of our success,” said Georgina, patting the parchment fondly.</p><p>“It’s a wrench, giving it to you,” said Frankie, “but we decided last night, your need’s greater than ours.”</p><p>“Anyway, we know it by heart,” said Georgina. “We bequeath it to you. We don’t really need it anymore.”</p><p>“And what do I need with a bit of old parchment?” said Harriet.</p><p>“A bit of old parchment!” said Frankie, closing her eyes with a grimace as though Harriet had mortally offended her. “Explain, Georgina.”</p><p>“Well… when we were in our first year, Harriet — young, carefree, and innocent —”</p><p>Harriet snorted. She doubted whether Frankie and Georgina had ever been innocent.</p><p>“ — well, more innocent than we are now — we got into a spot of bother with Filch.” </p><p>“We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset her for some reason —” </p><p>“So she hauled us off to her office and started threatening us with the usual —” </p><p>“— detention —” </p><p>“— disembowelment —” </p><p>“— and we couldn’t help noticing a drawer in one of her filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.”</p><p>“Don’t tell me –“ said Harriet, starting to grin.</p><p>“Well, what would you’ve done?” said Frankie. “Georgina caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb, I whipped the drawer open, and grabbed – this.”</p><p>“It’s not as bad as it sounds, you know,” said Georgina. “We don’t reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. She probably suspected what it was, though, or she wouldn’t have confiscated it.”</p><p>“And you know how to work it?”</p><p>“Oh yes,” said Frankie, smirking. “This little beauty’s taught us more than all the teachers in this school.”</p><p>“You’re winding me up,” said Harriet, looking at the ragged old bit of parchment.</p><p>“Oh, are we?” said Georgina.</p><p>She took out her wand, touched the parchment lightly, and said, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”</p><p>And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider’s web from the point that Georgina’s wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:</p><p>Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs<br/>
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present<br/>
THE MARAUDER’S MAP</p><p>It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the truly remarkable things were the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labelled with a name in miniscule writing. Astounded, Harriet bent over it. A labelled dot in the top left corner showed that Professor Dumbledore was pacing her study; the caretaker’s cat, Mr. Norris, was prowling the second floor; and Peeves the Poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room. And as Harriet’s eyes travelled up and down the familiar corridor, she noticed something else.</p><p>This map showed a set of passages she had never entered. And many of them seemed to lead –</p><p>“Right into Hogsmeade,” said Frankie, tracing one of them with her finger. “There are seven in all. Now, Filch knows about these four” – she pointed them out – “but we’re sure we’re the only ones who know about these. Don’t bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it’s caved in – completely blocked. And we don’t reckon anyone’s ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow’s planted right over the entrance. But this one here, this on leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We’ve used it loads of times. And as you might’ve noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone’s hump.”</p><p>“Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs,” sighed George, patting the heading of the map. “We owe them so much.”</p><p>“Noble women, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers,” said Frankie solemnly.</p><p>“Right,” said Georgina briskly. “Don’t forget to wipe it after you’ve used it –“</p><p>“- or anyone can read it,” Frankie said warningly.</p><p>“Just tap it again and say, ‘Mischief Managed!’ And it’ll go blank.”</p><p>“So, young Harriet,” said Frankie, in an uncanny impersonation of Penelope, “mind you behave yourself.”</p><p>“See you in Honeydukes,” said Georgina, winking.</p><p>They left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way.</p><p>Harriet stood there, gazing at the miraculous map. She watched the tiny ink Mr. Norris turn left and pause to sniff at something on the floor. If Filch really didn’t know … she wouldn’t have to pass the Dementors at all …</p><p>But even as she stood there, flooded with excitement, something Harriet had once heard Mrs. Prewett say came floating out of her memory.</p><p>Never trust anything that can think for itself, if you can’t see where it keeps its brain.</p><p>This map was one of those dangerous magical object Mrs. Prewett had been warning against… Aids for Magical Mischief Makers… but then, Harriet reasoned, she only wanted to use it to get into Hogsmeade, it wasn’t as though she wanted to steal anything or attack anyone… and Frankie and Georgina had been using it for years without anything horrible happening…</p><p>Harriet traced the secret passage to Honeydukes with her finger.</p><p>Then, quite suddenly, as though following orders, she rolled up the map, stuffed it inside her robes, and hurried to the door of the classroom. She opened it a couple of inches. There was no one outside. Very carefully, she edged out of the room and behind the one-eyed witch.</p><p>What did she have to do? She pulled out the map again and saw to her astonishment, that a new ink figure had appeared upon it, labelled “Harriet Evans”. This figure was standing exactly where the real Harriet was standing, about halfway down the third-floor corridor. Harriet watched carefully. Her little ink self appeared to be tapping the witch with her minute wand. Harriet quickly took out her real wand and tapped the statue. Nothing happened. She looked back at the map. The tiniest speech bubble had appeared next to her figure. The word inside said, “Dissendium”.</p><p>“Dissendium!” Harriet whispered, tapping the stone witch again.</p><p>At once, the statue’s hump opened wide enough to admit a fairly thin person. Harriet glanced quickly up and down the corridor, then tucked the map away again, hoisted herself into the hole headfirst, and pushed herself forward.</p><p>She slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on cold, damp earth. She stood up, looking around. It was pitch dark. She help up her wand, muttered, “Lumos!” and saw that she was in a very narrow, low, earthy passageway. She raised the map, tapped it with the tip of her wand, and muttered, “Mischief managed!”. The map went blank at once. She folded it carefully, tucked it inside her robes, then, heart beating fast, both excited and apprehensive, she set off.</p><p>The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. Harriet hurried along it, stumbling now and then on the uneven floor, holding her wand out in front of her.<br/>
It took ages, but Harriet had the thought of Honeydukes to sustain her. After what felt like an hour, the passage began to rise. Panting, Harriet sped up, her face hot, her feet very cold.</p><p>Ten minutes later, she came to the foot of some worn stone steps, which rose out of sight above her. Careful not to make any noise, Harriet began to climb. A hundred steps, two hundred steps, she lost count as she climbed, watching her feet… then, without warning, her head hit something hard.</p><p>It seemed to be a trapdoor. Harriet stood there, massaging the top of her head, listening. She couldn’t hear any sounds above her. Very slowly, she pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge.<br/>
She was in a cellar, which was full of wooden crates and boxes. Harriet climbed out of the trapdoor and replaced it – it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there. Harriet crept slowly toward the wooden staircase that led upstairs. Now she could definitely hear voices, not to mention the tinkle of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door.</p><p>Wondering what she ought to do, she suddenly heard a door open much closer at hand; somebody was about to come downstairs.</p><p>“And get another box of Jelly Slugs, dear, they’ve nearly cleaned us out –“ said a women’s voice.</p><p>A pair of feet was coming down the staircase. Harriet leapt behind an enormous crate and waited for the footsteps to pass. She heard the man shifting boxes against the opposite wall. She might not get another chance –</p><p>Quickly and silently, Harriet dodged out from her hiding place and climbed the stairs; looking back, she saw an enormous backside and shiny bald head, buried in a box. Harriet reached the door at the top of the stairs, slipped through it, and found herself behind the counter of Honeydukes – she ducked, crept sideways, and then straightened up.</p><p>Honeydukes was so crowded with Hogswart students that no one looked twice at Harriet. She edged among them, looking around, and suppressed a laugh as she imagined the look that would spread over Diana’s piggy face if she could see where Harriet was now.</p><p>There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-coloured toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavour Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizbees, the levitating sherbet balls that Ronnie had mentioned; along yet another wall were ‘Special Effects’ sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-coloured bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps (‘breathe fire for your friends!’), Ice Mice (‘hear your teeth chatter and squeak!’), peppermint creams shaped like toads (‘hop realistically in the stomach!’), fragile sugar-spun quills, and exploding bonbons.</p><p>Harriet squeezed herself througha crown of sixth years and saw a sign hanging in the farthest corner of the shop (UNUSAL TASTES). Ronnie and Hermes were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavoured lollipops. Harriet sneaked up behind them.</p><p>“Ugh, no, Harriet won’t want one of those, they’re for vampires, I expect,” Hermes was saying.</p><p>“How about these?” said Ronnie, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermes’ nose.</p><p>“Definitely not,” said Harriet</p><p>Ronnie nearly dropped the jar.</p><p>“Harry!” squealed Hermes. “What are you doing here? How – how did you -?”</p><p>“Wow!” said Ronnie, looking very impressed, “you’ve learned to Apparate!”</p><p>“’Course I haven’t,” said Harriet. She dropped her voice so that none of the sixth years could hear her and told them all about the Marauder’s Map.</p><p>“How come Frankie and Georgina never gave it to me!” said Ronnie, outraged. “I’m their brother!”</p><p>“But Harriet isn’t going to keep it!” said Hermes, as though the idea were ludicrous. “She’s going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren’t you, Harriet?”</p><p>“No, I’m not!” said Harriet.</p><p>“Are you mad?” said Ronnie, goggling at Hermes. “Hand in something that good?”</p><p>“If I hand it in, I’ll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Frankie and Georgina had nicked it!”</p><p>“But what about Siri Black?” Hermes hissed. “She could be using one of the passaged on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!”</p><p>“She can’t be getting in through a passage,” said Harriet quickly. “There are seven scret tunnels on the map, right? Frankie and Georgina reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three – one of them’s caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them’s got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can’t get out of it. And the one I just came through – well – it’s really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar – so unless she knew it was there –“</p><p>Harriet hesitated. What if Black did know the passage was there? Ronnie, however, cleared her throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door.</p><p>BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC<br/>
Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Siri Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.<br/>
Merry Christmas!</p><p>“See?” said Ronnie quietly. “I’d like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with Dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermes, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break in, wouldn’t they? They live over the shop!”</p><p>“Yes, but – but –“ Hermes seemed to be struggling to find another problem. “Look, Harriet still shouldn’t be coming into Hogsmeade. She hasn’t got a signed form! If anyone finds out, she’ll be in so much trouble! And it’s not nightfall yet – what if Siri Black turns up today? Now?”</p><p>“She’s have a job spotting Harriet in the,” said Ronnie, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow. “Come on, Hermes, it’s Christmas. Harriet deserves a break.”<br/>
Hermes bit his lip, looking extremely worried.</p><p>“Are you going to report me?” Harriet asked him, grinning.</p><p>“Oh – of course not – but honestly, Harriet –“</p><p>“Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harriet?” said Ronnie, grabbing her and leading her over to their barrel. “And the Jelly Slugs? And the Acid Pops? Frankie gave me one of those when I was seven – it burnt a hole right through my tongue. I remember Dad walloping her with his broomstick.” Ronnie stared broodingly into the Acid Pop box. “Reckon Frankie’d take a bite of Cockroach Cluster if I told her they were peanuts?”</p><p>When Ronnie and Hermes had paid for all their sweets, the three of them left Honeyduks for the blizzard outside.</p><p>Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.</p><p>Harriet shivered; unlike the other two, she didn’t have her cloak. They headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ronnie and Hermes shouting through their scarves.</p><p>“That’s the post office –"</p><p>“Zonko’s is up there –“</p><p>“We could go up to the Shrieking Shack –“</p><p>“Tell you what,” said Ronnie, her teeth chattering, “shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?”</p><p>Harriet was more than willing; the wind was fierce and her hands were freexing, so they crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.</p><p>It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm and smoky. A curvy sort of man with a handsome face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.</p><p>“That’s Mr. Rosman,” said Ronnie. “I’ll get the drinks, shall I?” she added, going slightly red.</p><p>Harriet and Hermes made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ronnie came back five minutes later, carrying three foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.</p><p>“Merry Christmas!” she said happily, raising her tankard.</p><p>Harriet drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of her from the inside.</p><p>A sudden breeze ruffled her hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. Harriet looked over the rim of her tankard and choked.</p><p>Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly woman in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak – Cornetta Fudge, Minister of Magic.</p><p>In an instant, Ronnie and Hermes had both hands on the top of Harriet’s head and forced her off her stool and under the table. Dripping with butterbeer and crouching out of sight, Harriet clutched her empty tankard and watched the teachers’ and Fudge’s feet move toward the bar, pause then turn and walk right toward her.</p><p>Somewhere above her, Hermes whispered, “Mobiliarbus!”</p><p>The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of their table, hiding them from view. Staring through the dense lower branches, Harriet saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and minister as they sat down.</p><p>Next she saw another pair of feet, wearing shiny turquoise loafers, and heard a man’s voice.</p><p>“A small gillywater –“</p><p>“Mine,” said Professor McGonagall’s voice.</p><p>“Four pints of mulled mead –“</p><p>“Ta, Rosman,” said Hagrid.</p><p>“A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella –“</p><p>“Mmm!” said Professor Flitwick, smacking her lips.</p><p>“So you’ll be the red currant rum, Minister.”</p><p>“Thank you, Rosman, sweetheart,” said Fudge’s voice. “Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won’t you? Come and join us…”</p><p>“Well, thank you very much, Minister.”</p><p>Harriet watched the shiny loafers march away and back again. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably in her throat. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that this was the last weekend of term for the teachers too? And how long were they going to sit there? She needed time to sneak back into Honeydukes if she wanted to return to school tonight… Hermes’ leg gave a nervous twitch next to her.</p><p>“So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister&gt;” came Mr. Rosman’s voice.</p><p>Harriet saw the lower part of Fudge’s thick body twist in her chair as though she were checking for eavesdroppers. Then she said in a quiet voice, “What else, but Siri Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Hallowe’en?”</p><p>“I did hear a rumour,” admitted Mr. Rosman.</p><p>“Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?” said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.</p><p>“Do you think Black’s still in the area, Minister?” whispered Mr. Rosman.</p><p>“I’m sure of it,” said Fudge shortly.</p><p>“You know that the Dementors have searched the whole village twice?” said Mr. Rosman, a slight edge to his voice. “Scared all my customer away… it’s very bad for business, Minister.”</p><p>“Rosman, love, I don’t like them any more than you do,” said Fudge uncomfortably. “Necessary precaution… unfortunate, but there you are… I’ve just met some of them. They’re in a fury against Dumbledore – she won’t let them inside the castle grounds.</p><p>“I should think not,” said Professor McGonagall sharply. “How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?”</p><p>“Hear, hear!” squeaked tiny professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.</p><p>“All the same,” demurred Fudge, “they are here to protect you all from something much worse… We all know what Black’s capable of…”</p><p>“Do you know, I still have trouble believing it,” said Mr. Rosman thoughtfully. “Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Siri Black was the last I’d have thought… I mean, I remember her when she was a girl at Hogwarts. If you’d told me then what she was going to become, I’d have said you’d head too much mead.”</p><p>“You don’t know the half of it, Rosman,” said Fudge, gruffly. “The worst she did isn’t widely known.”</p><p>“The worst?” said Mr. Rosman, his voice alive with curiosity. “Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?”</p><p>“I certainly do,” said Fudge.</p><p>“I can’t believe that. What could possible be worse?”</p><p>“You say you remember her at Hogwarts, Rosman,” murmured Professor McGonagall. “Do you remember who his best friend was?”</p><p>“Naturally,” said Mr. Rosman, with a small laugh. “Nevery saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here – ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Siri Black and Jane Potter!”</p><p>Harriet dropped her tankard with a loud clunk. Ronnie kicked her.</p><p>“Precisely,” said Professor McGonagall. “Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course – exceptionally bright, in fact – but I don’t think we’ve ever had such a pair of troublemakers –“</p><p>“I dunno,” chuckled Hagrid. “Frankie and Georgina Prewett could give ‘em a run fer their money.”</p><p>“You’d have thought Black and Potter were brothers!” chimed in Professor Flitwick. “Inseparable!”</p><p>“Of course they were,” said Fudge. “Potter trusted Black beyond all her other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when Jane married Leslie. Then they named her godmother to Harriet. Harriet has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment her.”</p><p>“Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?” whispered Mr. Rosman.</p><p>“Worse than that…” Fudge dropped her voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. “Not many people are aware that the Evans’ know You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped her off, and she alerted Jane and Leslie at once. She advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn’t an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm.”</p><p>“How does that work?” said Mr. Rosman, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared her throat.</p><p>“An immensely complex spell,” she said squeakily, “involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, loving soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find – unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper choose to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Leslie and Jane were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!”</p><p>“So Black was the Evans’ Secret-Keeper?” whispered Mr. Rosman.</p><p>“Naturally,” said Professor McGonagall. “Jane told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding herself… and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember her offering to be the Evans’ Secret-Keeper herself.”</p><p>“She suspected Black?” gasped Mr. Rosman.</p><p>“She was sure that somebody close to the Evans’ had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements,” said Professor McGonagall darkly. “Indeed, she had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who.”</p><p>“But Jane insisted on using Black?”</p><p>“She did,” said Fudge heavily. “And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed –“</p><p>“Black betrayed them?” breathed Mr. Rosman.</p><p>“She did indeed. Black was tired of her double-agent tole, she was ready to declare her support openly for You-Know-Who, and she seems to have planned this for the moment of the Evans’ death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harriet Evans. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. Her master had fallen at the very moment when she, Black, had shown her true colours as a traitor. She had no choice but to run for it –“</p><p>“Filthy, stinkin’ turncoat!” Hagird said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.</p><p>“Shh!” said Professor McGonagall. </p><p>“I met her!” growled Hagrid. “I musta bin the last ter see her before she killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harriet from Leslie an’ Jane’s house after they was killed! Jus’ got her outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across her forehead, an’ her parents dead… an’ Siri Black turns up, on that flyin’ motorbike she used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what she was doin’ there. I didn’ know she’d bin Leslie an’ Jane’s Secret-Keeper. Thought she’d jus’ heard the news o’ You-Know-Who’s attack an’ come ter see what she could do. White an’ shakin’, she was. An’ yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN’ TRAITOR!” Hagrid roared. </p><p>“Hagrid, please!” said Professor McGonagall. “Keep your voice down!” </p><p>“How was I ter know she wasn’ upset abou’ Leslie an’ Jane? It was You-Know-Who she cared abou’! An’ then she says, ‘Give Harriet ter me, Hagrid, I’m her godmother, I’ll look after her —’ Ha! But I’d had me orders from Dumbledore, an’ I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harriet was ter go ter her aunt an’ uncle’s. Black argued, but in the end she gave in. Told me ter take her motorbike ter get Harriet there. ‘I won’t need it anymore,’ she says.</p><p>“I shoulda known there was somethin’ fishy goin’ on then. She loved that motorbike, what was she givin’ it ter me for? Why wouldn’ she need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew she’d bin the Evans’ Secret-Keeper. Black knew she was goin’ ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o’ hours before the Ministry was after her. </p><p>“But what if I’d given Harret to her, eh? I bet she’d’ve pitched her off the bike halfway out ter sea. Her bes’ friends’ daughter! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there’s nothin’ and no one that matters to em anymore…”</p><p>A long silence followed Hagrid’s story. Then Mr. Rosman said with some satisfaction, “But she didn’t manage to disappear, did she? The Ministry of Magic caught up with her next day!”</p><p>“Alas, if only we had,” said Fudge bitterly. “It was not we who found her. It was little Petunia Pettigrew – another of the Evans’ friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Evans’ Secret-Keeper, she went after Black herself.”</p><p>“Pettigrew… that fat little girl who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?” said Mr. Rosman</p><p>“Hero-worshipped Black and Potter,” said Professor McGonagall. “Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with her. You can imagine how I – how I regret that now…” He sounded as though he had a sudden head cold.</p><p>“There, now, Milton,” said Fudge kindly, “Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses – Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later – told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say she was sobbing, ‘Leslie and Jane, Siri! How could you?’ And then she went for her wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens…”</p><p>“Professor McGonagall blew his nose and said thickly, “Stupid girl… foolish girl… she was always hopeless at duelling… should have left it to the Ministry…”</p><p>“I tell yeh, if I’d got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn’t’ve messed around whit wands – I’d’ve ripped her limb – from – limb,” Hagrid growled.</p><p>“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Hagrid,” said Fudge sharply. “Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once she was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I – I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of her… a heap of bloodstained robes and a few – a few fragments –“</p><p>Fudge’s voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.</p><p>“Well, there you have it, Rosman,” said Fudge thickly. “Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to her poor mother. Black’s been in Azkaban ever since.”</p><p>Mr. Rosman let out a long sigh.</p><p>“Is it true she’s mad, Minister?”</p><p>“I wish I could say that she was,” saud Fudge slowly. “I certainly believe she master’s defeat unhinged her for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man – cruel… pointless. Yet I met Black on last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there’s no sense in them… but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. She spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You’d have thought she was merely bored – asked if I’d finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said she missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Dementors seemed to be having on her – and she was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside her door day and night.”</p><p>“But what do you think she’s broken out to do?” said Mr. Rosman. “Good gracious, Minister, she isn’t trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is she?”</p><p>“I daresay that is her – er – eventual plan,” said Fudge evasively. “But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing… but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly she’ll rise again…”</p><p>There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.</p><p>“You know, Cornetta, if you’re dining with the headmistress, we’d better head back up to the castle,” said Professor McGonagall.</p><p>One by one, the pairs of feet in front of Harriet took the weight of their owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight, and Mr. Rosman’s shining loafers disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers disappeared.</p><p>“Harry?”</p><p>Ronnie’s and Hermes’ faces appeared under the table. They were both staring at her lost for words.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Firebolt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J.K. Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harriet didn't have a very clear idea of how she had managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel, and into the castle once more. All she knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and that she hardly noticed what she was doing, because her head was still pounding with the conversation she had just heard.</p><p>Why had nobody ever told her? Dumbledore, Hagrid, Mrs. Prewett, Cornetta Fudge…why hadn't anyone ever mentioned the fact that Harriet’s parents had died because their best friend had betrayed them?</p><p>Ronnie and Hermes watched Harriet nervously all through dinner, not daring to talk about what they'd overheard, because Penelope was sitting close by them. When they went upstairs to the crowded common room, it was to find Frankie and Georgina had set off half a dozen Dungbombs in a fit of end-of-term high spirits. Harriet, who didn't want Frankie and Georgina asking her whether she'd reached Hogsmeade or not, sneaked quietly up to the empty dormitory and headed straight for her bedside cabinet. She pushed her books aside and quickly found what she was looking for — the leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given her two years ago, which was full of wizard pictures of her mother and father. She sat down on her bed, drew the hangings around her, and started turning the pages, searching, until …</p><p>She stopped on a picture of her parents' wedding day. There was her mother waving up at her, beaming, the untidy black hair Harriet had inherited standing up in all directions. There was her father, alight with happiness, arm in arm with her mum. And there… that must be her. Their maid of honour… Harriet had never given her a thought before.</p><p>If she hadn't known it was the same person, she would never have guessed it was Black in this old photograph. Her face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. Had she already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Was she already planning the deaths of the two people next to her? Did she realize she was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make her unrecognizable?</p><p>But the Dementors don't affect her, Harriet thought, staring into the handsome, laughing face. She doesn't have to hear my dad screaming if they get too close —</p><p>Harriet slammed the album shut, reached over and stuffed it back into her cabinet, took off her robe and glasses and got into bed, making sure the hangings were hiding her from view.</p><p>The dormitory door opened.</p><p>"Harriet?" said Ronnie’s voice uncertainly.</p><p>But Harriet lay still, pretending to be asleep. She heard Ronnie leave again, and rolled over on her back, her eyes wide open.</p><p>A hatred such as she had never known before was coursing through Harriet like poison. She could see Black laughing at her through the darkness, as though somebody had pasted the picture from the album over her eyes. She watched, as though somebody was playing her a piece of film, Siri Black blasting Petunia Pettigrew (who resembled Netta Fortesque) into a thousand pieces. She could hear (though having no idea what Black's voice might sound like) a low, excited mutter. "It has happened, My Lord…the Evans’ have made me their Secret-Keeper" and then came another voice, laughing shrilly, the same laugh that Harriet heard inside her head whenever the Dementors drew near….</p><p>"Harriet, you — you look terrible."</p><p>Harriet hadn't gotten to sleep until daybreak. She had awoken to find the dormitory deserted, dressed, and gone down the spiral staircase to a common room that was completely empty except for Ronnie, who was eating a Peppermint Toad and massaging her stomach, and Hermes, who had spread his homework over three tables.</p><p>"Where is everyone?" said Harriet.</p><p>"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" said Ronnie, watching Harriet closely. "It's nearly lunchtime; I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."</p><p>Harriet slumped into a chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug.</p><p>"You really don't look well, you know," Hermes said, peering anxiously into her face.</p><p>"I'm fine," said Harriet.</p><p>"Harriet, listen," said Hermes, exchanging a look with Ronnie, "you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."</p><p>"Like what?" said Harriet.</p><p>"Like trying to go after Black," said Ronnie sharply.</p><p>Harry could tell they had rehearsed this conversation while she had been asleep. She didn't say anything.</p><p>"You won't, will you, Harriet?" said Hermes.</p><p>"Because Black's not worth dying for," said Ronnie.</p><p>Harriet looked at them. They didn't seem to understand at all.</p><p>"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" Ronnie and Hermes shook their heads, looking apprehensive. "I can hear my dad screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your dad screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of his betrayed him and sent Voldemort after him –"</p><p>"There's nothing you can do!" said Hermes, looking stricken. "The Dementors will catch Black and she'll go back to Azkaban and — and serve her right!"</p><p>"You heard what Fudge said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for her like it is for the others."</p><p>"So what are you saying?" said Ronnie, looking very tense. "You want to — to kill Black or something?"</p><p>"Don't be silly," said Hermes in a panicky voice. "Harriet doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harriet?"</p><p>Again, Harriet didn't answer. She didn't know what she wanted to do. All she knew was that the idea of doing nothing, while Black was at liberty, was almost more than she could stand.</p><p>"Black knows," she said abruptly. "Remember what she said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt her down myself…I'd want revenge.'"</p><p>"You're going to take Black’s advice instead of ours?" said Ronnie furiously. "Listen…you know what Pettigrew's mother got back after Black had finished with her? Mum told me — the Order of Merlin, First Class, and Pettigrew's finger in a box. That was the biggest bit of her they could find. Black's a madman, Harriet, and she's dangerous –"</p><p>"Black’s mum must have told her," said Harriet, ignoring Ronnie. "She was right in Voldemort's inner circle –"</p><p>"Say You-Know-Who, will you?" interjected Ronnie angrily.</p><p>"– so obviously, the Blacks knew Siri Black was working for Voldemort –"</p><p>"– and Black’d love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip. Black’s just hoping you'll get yourself killed before she has to play you at Quidditch."</p><p>"Harriet, please," said Hermes, his eyes now shining with tears, "Please be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible thing, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what Black wants…Oh, Harriet, you'd be playing right into Black's hands if you went looking for her. Your dad and mum wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for Black!"</p><p>"I'll never know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, I've never spoken to them," said Harriet shortly.</p><p>There was a silence in which Crookshanks stretched luxuriously flexing his claws. Ronnie’s pocket quivered.</p><p>"Look," said Ronnie, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's — let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited her for ages!"</p><p>"No!" said Hermes quickly. "Harriet isn't supposed to leave the castle, Ronnie –"</p><p>"Yeah, let's go," said Harriet, sitting up, "and I can ask her how come she never mentioned Black when she told me all about my parents!"</p><p>Further discussion of Siri Black plainly wasn't what Ronnie had had in mind.</p><p>"Or we could have a game of chess," she said hastily, "or Gobstones. Penelope left a set –"</p><p>"No, let's visit Hagrid," said Harriet firmly.</p><p>So they got their cloaks from their dormitories and set off through the portrait hole ("Stand and fight, you yellow-bellied mongrels!"), down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors.</p><p>They made their way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, their socks and the hems of their cloaks soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.<br/>
Ronnie knocked, but there was no answer.</p><p>"She’s not out, is she?" said Hermes, who was shivering under his cloak.</p><p>Ronnie had her ear to the door.</p><p>"There's a weird noise," she said. "Listen — is that Fang?"</p><p>Harriet and Hermes put their ears to the door too. From inside the cabin came a series of low, throbbing moans.</p><p>"Think we'd better go and get someone?" said Ronnie nervously.</p><p>"Hagrid!" called Harriet, thumping the door. "Hagrid, are you in there?"</p><p>There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door creaked open. Hagrid stood there with her eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of her leather vest.</p><p>"You've heard?" she bellowed, and she flung herself onto Harriet’s neck.</p><p>Hagrid being at least twice the size of a normal woman, this was no laughing matter. Harriet, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, was rescued by Ronnie and Hermes, who each seized Hagrid under an arm and heaved her back into the cabin. Hagrid allowed herself to be steered into a chair and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, her face glazed with tears that dripped down into her tangled beard.</p><p>"Hagrid, what is it?" said Hermes, aghast.</p><p>Harriet spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table.</p><p>"What's this, Hagrid?"</p><p>Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but she shoved the letter toward Harriet, who picked it up and read aloud:</p><p>“Dear Ms. Hagrid,</p><p>Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident.”</p><p>"Well, that's okay then, Hagrid!" said Ronnie, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of her gigantic hands, inviting Harrier to read on.</p><p>“However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mrs. Luanna Black, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your Hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated.</p><p>Yours in fellowship …”</p><p>There followed a list of the school governors.</p><p>"Oh," said Ronnie. "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad Hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off."</p><p>"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" choked Hagrid, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!"</p><p>A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes whip around. Buckbeak the Hippogriff was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor.</p><p>"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" choked Hagrid. "All on his own! At Christmas."</p><p>Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes looked at one another. They had never seen eye to eye with Hagrid about what she called 'interesting creatures' and other people called 'terrifying monsters.' On the other hand, there didn't seem to be any particular harm in Buckbeak. In fact, by Hagrid's usual standards, he was positively cute.</p><p>"You'll have to put up a good strong defense, Hagrid," said Hermes, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."</p><p>"Won' make no diff'rence!" sobbed Hagrid. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in luanna Black's pocket! Scared o' her! Ad if I lose the case, Buckbeak –"</p><p>Hagrid drew her finger swiftly across her throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forward, her face in her arms.</p><p>"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" said Harriet.</p><p>"She’s done more'n enough fer me already," groaned Hagrid. "Got enough on her plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the castle, an' Siri Black lurkin' around."</p><p>Ronnie and Hermes looked quickly at Harriet, as though expecting her to start berating Hagrid for not telling her the truth about Black. But Harriet couldn't bring herself to do it, not now that she saw Hagrid so miserable and scared.</p><p>"Listen, Hagrid," she said, "you can't give up. Hermes is right, you just need a good defense. You can call us as witnesses –"</p><p>"I'm sure I've read about a case of Hippogriff-baiting," said Hermes thoughtfully, "where the Hippogriff got off. I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened."</p><p>Hagrid howled still more loudly. Harriet and Hermes looked at Ronnie to help them.</p><p>"Er — shall I make a cup of tea?" said Ronnie.</p><p>Harriet stared at her.</p><p>"It's what my dad does whenever someone's upset," Ronnie muttered, shrugging.</p><p>At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of her, Hagrid blew her nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together…"</p><p>Fang the boarhound came timidly out from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee.</p><p>"I've not bin meself lately," said Hagrid, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping her face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes –"</p><p>"We do like them!" lied Hermes at once.</p><p>"Yeah, they're great!" said Ronnie, crossing her fingers under the table. "Er — how are the flobberworms?"</p><p>"Dead," said Hagrid gloomily. "Too much lettuce."</p><p>"Oh no!" said Ronnie, her lip twitching.</p><p>"An' them Dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all," said Hagrid, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban –"</p><p>She fell silent, gulping her tea. Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes watched her breathlessly. They had never heard Hagrid talk about her brief spell in Azkaban before. After a pause, Hermes said timidly, "Is it awful in there, Hagrid?"</p><p>"Yeh've no idea," said Hagrid quietly. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind…the day I got expelled from Hogwarts…day me dad died…day I had ter let Norbert go …"</p><p>Her eyes filled with tears. Norbert was the baby dragon Hagrid had once won in a game of cards.</p><p>"Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' really see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep. When they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the Dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."</p><p>"But you were innocent!" said Hermes.</p><p>Hagrid snorted.</p><p>"Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."</p><p>Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into her tea. Then she said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go …tryin' ter make him fly away…but how d'yeh explain ter a Hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An' — an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law…" She looked up at them, tears leaking down her face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."</p><p>The trip to Hagrid's, though far from fun, had nevertheless had the effect Ronnie and Hermes had hoped. Though Harriet had by no means forgotten about Black, she couldn't brood constantly on revenge if she wanted to help Hagrid win her case against the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. She, Ronnie, and Hermes went to the library the next day and returned to the empty common room laden with books that might help prepare a defense for Buckbeak. The three of them sat in front of the roaring fire, slowly turning the pages of dusty volumes about famous cases of marauding beasts, speaking occasionally when they ran across something relevant.</p><p>"Here's something…there was a case in 1722…but the Hippogriff was convicted — ugh, look what they did to it, that's disgusting –"</p><p>"This might help, look — a Manticore savaged someone in 1296, and they let the Manticore off — oh — no, that was only because everyone was too scared to go near it…"</p><p>Meanwhile, in the rest of the castle, the usual magnificent Christmas decorations had been put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armor, and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Christmas Eve, it had grown so strong that even Scabbers poked his nose out of the shelter of Ronnie’s pocket to sniff hopefully at the air.</p><p>On Christmas morning, Harriet was woken by Ronnie throwing her pillow at her.</p><p>"Oy! Presents!"</p><p>Harriet reached for her glasses and put them on, squinting through the semi-darkness to the foot of her bed, where a small heap of parcels had appeared. Ronnie was already ripping the paper off her own presents.</p><p>"Another sweater from dad…maroon again…see if you've got one."</p><p>Harriet had. Mr. Prewett had sent her a scarlet sweater with the Gryffindor lion knitted on the front, also a dozen home-baked mince pies, some Christmas cake, and a box of nut brittle. As she moved all these things aside, she saw a long, thin package lying underneath.</p><p>"What's that?" said Ronnie, looking over, a freshly unwrapped pair of maroon socks in her hand.</p><p>"Dunno…"</p><p>Harriet ripped the parcel open and gasped as a magnificent, gleaming broomstick rolled out onto her bedspread. Ronnie dropped her socks and jumped off her bed for a closer look.</p><p>"I don't believe it," she said hoarsely.</p><p>It was a Firebolt, identical to the dream broom Harriet had gone to see every day in Diagon Alley. Its handle glittered as she picked it up. She could feel it vibrating and let go; it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for her to mount it. Her eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.</p><p>"Who sent it to you?" said Ronnie in a hushed voice.</p><p>"Look and see if there's a card," said Harriet.</p><p>Ronnie ripped apart the Firebolt's wrappings.</p><p>"Nothing! Blimey, who'd spend that much on you?"</p><p>"Well," said Harriet, feeling stunned, "I'm betting it wasn't the Evans’."</p><p>"I bet it was Dumbledore," said Ronnie, now walking around and around the Firebolt, taking in every glorious inch. "She sent you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously…"</p><p>"That was my mum’s, though," said Harriet. "Dumbledore was just passing it on to me. She wouldn't spend hundreds of Galleons on me. She can't go giving students stuff like this –"</p><p>"That's why she wouldn't say it was from her!" said Ronnie. "In case some git like Black said it was favoritism. Hey, Harriet –" Ronnie gave a great whoop of laughter — "Black! Wait 'til she sees you on this! She’ll be sick as a pig! This is an international standard broom, this is!"</p><p>"I can't believe this," Harriet muttered, running a hand along the Firebolt, while Ronnie sank onto Harriet’s bed, laughing her head off at the thought of Black. "Who–?"</p><p>"I know," said Ronnie, controlling herself, "I know who it could've been — Howell!"</p><p>"What?" said Harriet, now starting to laugh herself "Howell? Listen, if she had this much gold, she'd be able to buy herself some new robes."</p><p>"Yeah, but she likes you," said Ronnie. "And she was away when your Nimbus got smashed, and she might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for you –"</p><p>"What d'you mean, she was away?" said Harriet. "She was ill when I was playing in that match."</p><p>"Well, she wasn't in the hospital wing," said Ronnie. "I was there, cleaning out the bedpans on that detention from Prince, remember?"</p><p>Harriet frowned at Ronnie.</p><p>"I can't see Howell affording something like this."</p><p>"What're you two laughing about?"</p><p>Hermes had just come in, wearing his dressing gown and carrying Crookshanks, who was looking very grumpy, with a string of tinsel tied around his neck.</p><p>"Don't bring him in here!" said Ronnie, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of her bed and stowing him in her pajama pocket.</p><p>But Hermes wasn't listening. He dropped Crookshanks onto Sinead’s empty bed and stared, open-mouthed, at the Firebolt.</p><p>"Oh, Harriet! Who sent you that?"</p><p>"No idea," said Harriet. "There wasn't a card or anything with it."</p><p>To her great surprise, Hermes did not appear either excited or intrigued by the news. On the contrary, his face fell, and he bit his lip.</p><p>"What's the matter with you?" said Ronnie.</p><p>"I don't know," said Hermes slowly, "but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?"</p><p>Ronnie sighed exasperatedly.</p><p>"It's the best broom there is, Hermes," she said.</p><p>"So it must've been really expensive…"</p><p>"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together," said Ronnie happily.</p><p>"Well…who'd send Harriet something as expensive as that, and not even tell her they'd sent it?" said Hermes.</p><p>"Who cares?" said Ronnie impatiently. "Listen, Harriet, can I have a go on it? Can I?"</p><p>"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" said Hermes shrilly.</p><p>Harriet and Ronnie looked at him.</p><p>"What d'you think Harriet’s going to do with it — sweep the floor?" said Ronnie.</p><p>But before Hermes could answer, Crookshanks sprang from Sinead’s bed, right at Ronnie’s chest.</p><p>"GET — HIM — OUT — OF — HERE!" Ronnie bellowed as Crookshanks's claws ripped her pajamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over her shoulder. Ronnie seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the trunk at the end of Harriet’s bed, knocking it over and causing Ronnie to hop up and down, howling with pain.</p><p>Crookshanks's fur suddenly stood on end. A shrill, tinny, whistling was filling the room. The Pocket Sneakoscope had become dislodged from Aunt Verona’s old socks and was whirling and gleaming on the floor.</p><p>"I forgot about that!" Harriet said, bending down and picking up the Sneakoscope. "I never wear those socks if I can help it…"</p><p>The Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in her palm. Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it.</p><p>"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermes," said Ronnie furiously, sitting on Harriet’s bed nursing her toe. "Can't you shut that thing up?" she added to Harriet as Hermes strode out of the room, Crookshanks's yellow eyes still fixed maliciously on Ronnie.</p><p>Harriet stuffed the Sneakoscope back inside the socks and threw it back into her trunk. All that could be heard now were Ronnie’s stifled moans of pain and rage. Scabbers was huddled in Ronnie’s hands. It had been a while since Harriet had seen her out of Ronnie’s pocket, and she was unpleasantly surprised to see that Scabbers, once so fat, was now very skinny; patches of fur seemed to have fallen out too.</p><p>"He's not looking too good, is he?" Harriet said.</p><p>"It's stress!" said Ronnie. "He'd be fine if that big stupid furball left him alone!"</p><p>But Harriet, remembering what the woman at the Magical Menagerie had said about rats living only three years, couldn't help feeling that unless Scabbers had powers he had never revealed, he was reaching the end of his life. And despite Ronnie’s frequent complaints that Scabbers was both boring and useless, she was sure Ronnie would be very miserable if Scabbers died.</p><p>Christmas spirit was definitely thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room that morning. Hermes had shut Crookshanks in his dormitory, but was furious with Ronnie for trying to kick him; Ronnie was still fuming about Crookshanks's fresh attempt to eat Scabbers. Harriet gave up trying to make them talk to each other and devoted herself to examining the Firebolt, which she had brought down to the common room with her. For some reason this seemed to annoy Hermes as well; he didn't say anything, but he kept looking darkly at the broom as though it too had been criticizing his cat.</p><p>At lunchtime they went down to the Great Hall, to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Prince, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off her usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only three other students, two extremely nervous-looking first years and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth year.</p><p>"Merry Christmas!" said Dumbledore as Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables…Sit down, sit down!"</p><p>Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes sat down side by side at the end of the table.</p><p>"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Prince, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witches hat topped with a stuffed vulture.</p><p>Harriet, remembering the Boggart, caught Ronnie’s eye and they both grinned; Prince’s mouth thinned and she pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for her witch’s hat at once.</p><p>"Dig in!" she advised the table, beaming around.</p><p>As Harriet was helping herself to roast potatoes, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as though on wheels. He had put on a green sequined dress in honor of the occasion, making him look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.</p><p>"Sydney, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.</p><p>"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Professor Trelawney in his mistiest, most faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…"</p><p>"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, her eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair –"</p><p>And she did indeed draw a chair in midair with her wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Professors Prince and McGonagall. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; his enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and he suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.</p><p>"I dare not, Headmistress! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"</p><p>"We'll risk it, Sydney," said Professor McGonagall impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."</p><p>Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered himself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.</p><p>"Tripe, Sydney?"</p><p>Professor Trelawney ignored him. Eyes open again, he looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Howell?"</p><p>"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."</p><p>"But surely you already knew that, Sydney?" said Professor McGonagall, his eyebrows raised.</p><p>Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look.</p><p>"Certainly I knew, Milton," he said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."</p><p>"That explains a great deal," said Professor McGonagall tartly.</p><p>Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty.</p><p>"If you must know, Milton, I have seen that poor Professor Howell will not be with us for very long. She seems aware, herself, that her time is short. She positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for her –"</p><p>"Imagine that," said Professor McGonagall dryly.</p><p>"I doubt," said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, "that Professor Howell is in any immediate danger. Stevanie, you've made the potion for her again?"</p><p>"Yes, Headmaster," said Prince.</p><p>"Good," said Dumbledore. "Then she should be up and about in no time…Derek, have you had any of the chipolatas? They're excellent."</p><p>The first-year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.<br/>
Professor Trelawney behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their cracker hats, Harriet and Ronnie got up first from the table and he shrieked loudly.</p><p>"My dears! Which of you left her seat first? Which?"</p><p>"Dunno," said Ronnie, looking uneasily at Harriet.</p><p>"I doubt it will make much difference," said Professor McGonagall coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."</p><p>Even Ronnie laughed. Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted.</p><p>"Coming?" Harriet said to Hermes.</p><p>"No," Hermes muttered. "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."</p><p>"Probably trying to see if he can take any more classes," yawned Ronnie as they made their way into the Entrance Hall, which was completely devoid of mad axe-men.</p><p>When they reached the portrait hole they found Sir Cadogan enjoying a Christmas port with a couple of monks, several previous headmasters of Hogwarts and his fat pony. He pushed up his visor toasted them with a flagon of mead.</p><p>"Merry — hic — Christmas! Password?"</p><p>"Scurvy cur," said Ronnie.</p><p>"And the same to you, sir! roared Sir Cadogan, as the painting swung forward to admit them.</p><p>Harriet went straight up to the dormitory, collected her Firebolt and the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermes had given her for her birthday, brought them downstairs and tried to find something to do with the Firebolt; however, there where no bent twigs to clip, and the handle was so shiny already it seemed pointless to polish it. She and Ronnie simply sat admiring it from every angle, until the portrait hole opened, and Hermes came in, accompanied by Professor McGonagall.</p><p>Though Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, Harriet had only seen him in the common room once before, and that had been to make a very grave announcement. She and Ronnie stared at him, both holding the Firebolt. Hermes walked around them, sat down, picked up the nearest book and hid his face behind it.</p><p>"So that's it, is it?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt. "Mr. Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Evans."</p><p>Harriet and Ronnie looked around at Hermes. They could see his forehead reddening over the top of his book, which was upside-down.</p><p>"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but he didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of their hands. He examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Evans? No card? No message of any kind?"</p><p>"No," said Harriet blankly.</p><p>"I see…" said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Evans."</p><p>"W — what?" said Harriet, scrambling to her feet. "Why?"</p><p>"It will need to be checked for jinxes," said Professor McGonagall. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Master Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down –"</p><p>"Strip it down?" repeated Ronnie, as though Professor McGonagall was mad.</p><p>"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Professor McGonagall. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx-free."</p><p>"There's nothing wrong with it!" said Harriet, her voice shaking slightly. "Honestly, Professor –"</p><p>"You can't know that, Evans," said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, "not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."</p><p>Professor McGonagall turned on his heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind his. Harriet stood staring after him, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in her hands. Ronnie, however, rounded on Hermes.</p><p>"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"</p><p>Hermes threw her book aside. He was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ronnie defiantly.</p><p>"Because I thought — and Professor McGonagall agrees with me — that that broom was probably sent to Harriet by Siri Black!"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. The Patronus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>All rights to the story and characters belong to J.K. Rowling.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harriet knew that Hermes had meant well, but that didn't stop her from being angry with him. </p><p>She had been the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short hours, and now, because of his interference, she didn't know whether she would ever see it again. She was positive that there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt now, but what sort of state would it be in once it had been subjected to all sorts of anti-jinx tests?</p><p>Ronnie was furious with Hermes too. As far as she was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage. Hermes, who remained convinced that he had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Harriet and Ronnie supposed he had taken refuge in the library and didn't try to persuade him to come back. All in all, they were glad when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Gryffindor Tower became crowded and noisy again. Wood sought Harriet out on the night before term started.</p><p>"Had a good Christmas?" she said, and then, without waiting for an answer, she sat down, lowered her voice, and said, "I've been, doing some thinking over Christmas, Harriet. After last match, you know. If the Dementors come to the next one…I mean…we can't afford you to — well –"</p><p>Wood broke off, looking awkward.</p><p>"I'm working on it," said Harriet quickly. "Professor Howell said she'd train me to ward off the Dementors. We should be starting this week. She said she'd have time after Christmas."</p><p>"Ah," said Wood, her expression clearing. "Well, in that case — I really didn't want to lose you as Seeker, Harriet. And have you ordered a new broom yet?"</p><p>"No," said Harriet.</p><p>"What! You'd better get a move on, you know — you can't ride that Shooting Star against Ravenclaw!"</p><p>"She got a Firebolt for Christmas," said Ronnie.</p><p>"A Firebolt? No! Seriously? A — a real Firebolt?"</p><p>"Don't get excited, Olivia," said Harriet gloomily. "I haven't got it anymore. It was confiscated." And she explained all about how the Firebolt was now being checked for jinxes.</p><p>"Jinxed? How could it be jinxed?"</p><p>"Siri Black," Harriet said wearily. "She’s supposed to be after me. So McGonagall reckons she might have sent it."</p><p>Waving aside the information that a famous murderer was after her Seeker, Wood said, "But Black couldn't have bought a Firebolt! She’s on the run! The whole country's on the lookout for her! How could she just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?"</p><p>"I know," said Harriet, "but McGonagall still wants to strip it down –"</p><p>Wood went pale.</p><p>"I'll go and talk to him, Harriet," she promised. "I'll make him see reason… A Firebolt… a real Firebolt, on our team... He wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do… I'll make him see sense. A Firebolt…”</p><p>Classes started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two hours on the grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for their enjoyment, and they spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs. The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and he lost no time in informing Harriet that she had the shortest life line he had ever seen.</p><p>It was Defense Against the Dark Arts that Harriet was keen to get to; after her conversation with Wood, she wanted to get started on her anti-Dementor lessons as soon as possible.</p><p>"Ah yes," said Howell, when Harriet reminded her of her promise at the end of class. "Let me see…how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough…I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this…We can't bring a real Dementor into the castle to practice on…."</p><p>"Still looks ill, doesn't she?" said Ronnie as they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you reckon's the matter with her?"</p><p>There was a loud and impatient "tuh" from behind them. It was Hermes, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armor, repacking his bag, which was so full of books it wouldn't close.</p><p>"And what are you tutting at us for?" said Ronnie irritably.</p><p>"Nothing," said Hermes in a lofty voice, heaving his bag back over his shoulder.</p><p>"Yes, you were," said Ronnie. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Howell, and you –"</p><p>"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Hermes, with a look of maddening superiority.</p><p>"If you don't want to tell us, don't," snapped Ronnie.</p><p>"Fine," said Hermes haughtily, and he marched off.</p><p>"He doesn't know," said Ronnie, staring resentfully after Hermes. "He’s just trying to get us to talk to him again."</p><p>At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, Harriet left Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when she arrived, but she lit the lamps with her wand and had waited only five minutes when Professor Howell turned up, carrying a large packing case, which she heaved onto Professor Binn's desk.</p><p>"What's that?" said Harriet.</p><p>"Another Boggart," said Howell, stripping off her cloak. "I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."</p><p>"Okay," said Harriet, trying to sound as though she wasn't apprehensive at all and merely glad that Howell had found such a good substitute for a real Dementor.</p><p>"So…" Professor Howell had taken out her own wand, and indicated that Harriet should do the same. "The spell I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Harriet — well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."</p><p>"How does it work?" said Harriet nervously.</p><p>"Well, when it works correctly, It conjures up a Patronus," said Howell, "which is a kind of anti-Dementor — a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the Dementor."</p><p>Harriet had a sudden vision of herself crouching behind a Hagrid-sized figure holding a large club. Professor Howell continued, "The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Dementors can't hurt it. But I must warn you, Harriet, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."</p><p>"What does a Patronus look like?" said Harriet curiously.</p><p>"Each one is unique to the witch who conjures it."</p><p>"And how do you conjure it?"</p><p>"With an incantation, which will work only if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."</p><p>Harriet cast her mind about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothing that had happened to her at the Evans' was going to do. Finally, she settled on the moment when she had first ridden a broomstick.</p><p>"Right," she said, trying to recall as exactly as possible the wonderful, soaring sensation of her stomach.</p><p>"The incantation is this –" Howell cleared her throat. "Expecto patronum!"</p><p>"Expecto patronum," Harriet repeated under her breath, "expecto patronum."</p><p>"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?"</p><p>"Oh — yeah –" said Harriet, quickly forcing her thoughts back to that first broom ride. "Expecto patrono — no, patronum — sorry — expecto patronum, expecto patronum"</p><p>Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of her wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas.</p><p>"Did you see that?" said Harriet excitedly. "Something happened!"</p><p>"Very good," said Howell, smiling. "Right, then — ready to try it on a Dementor?"</p><p>"Yes," Harriet said, gripping her wand very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom. She tried to keep her mind on flying, but something else kept intruding…Any second now, she might hear her father again…but she shouldn't think that, or she would hear her again, and she didn't want to…or did she?</p><p>Howell grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled.</p><p>A Dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned toward Harriet, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently toward Harriet, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing cold broke over her —</p><p>"Expecto patronum!" Harriet yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto –"</p><p>But the classroom and the Dementor were dissolving… Harriet was falling again through thick white fog, and her father’s voice was louder than ever, echoing inside her head — "Not Harriet! Not Harriet! Please — I'll do anything –"</p><p>"Stand aside — stand aside, boy –"</p><p>"Harriet!"</p><p>Harriet jerked back to life. She was lying flat on her back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again. She didn't have to ask what had happened.</p><p>"Sorry," she muttered, sitting up and feeling cold sweat trickling down behind her glasses.</p><p>"Are you all right?" said Howell.</p><p>"Yes…" Harriet pulled herself up on one of the desks and leaned against it.</p><p>"Here –" Howell handed her a Chocolate Frog. "Eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it your first time; in fact, I would have been astounded if you had."</p><p>"It's getting worse," Harriet muttered, biting off the Frog's head. "I could hear him louder that time — and him — Voldemort –"</p><p>Howell looked paler than usual.</p><p>"Harriet, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand –"</p><p>"I do!" said Harriet fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into her mouth. "I've got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!"</p><p>"All right then…" said Howell. "You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on…That one doesn't seem to have been strong enough…"</p><p>Harriet thought hard and decided her feelings when Gryffindor had won the House Championship last year had definitely qualified as very happy. She gripped her wand tightly again and took up her position in the middle of the classroom.</p><p>"Ready?" said Howell, gripping the box lid.</p><p>"Ready," said Harriet; trying hard to fill her head with happy thoughts about Gryffindor winning, and not dark thoughts about what was going to happen when the box opened.</p><p>"Go!" said Howell, pulling off the lid. The room went icily cold and dark once more. The Dementor glided forward, drawing its breath; one rotting hand was extending toward Harriet —</p><p>"Expecto patronum!" Harriet yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto Pat –"</p><p>White fog obscured her senses…big, blurred shapes were moving around her…then came a new voice, a woman’s voice, shouting, panicking —</p><p>"Leslie, take Harriet and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off –"</p><p>The sounds of someone stumbling from a room — a door bursting open — a cackle of high- pitched laughter —</p><p>"Harriet! Harriet…wake up…"</p><p>Howell was tapping Harriet hard on the face. This time it was a minute before Harriet understood why she was lying on a dusty classroom floor.</p><p>"I heard my mum," Harriet mumbled. "That's the first time I've ever heard her — she tried to take on Voldemort herself, to give my dad time to run for it…"</p><p>Harriet suddenly realized that there were tears on her face mingling with the sweat. She bent her face as low as possible, wiping them off on her robes, pretending to do up her shoelace, so that Howell wouldn't see.</p><p>"You heard Jane?" said Howell in a strange voice.</p><p>"Yeah…" Face dry, Harriet looked up. "Why — you didn't know my mum, did you?"</p><p>"I — I did, as a matter of fact," said Howell. "We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harriet — perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced…I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this…"</p><p>"No!" said Harriet. She got up again. "I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is…hang on…"</p><p>She racked her brains. A really, really happy memory…one that she could turn into a good, strong Patronus….</p><p>The moment when she'd first found out she was a witch, and would be leaving the Dursleys for Hogwarts! If that wasn't a happy memory, she didn't know what was…</p><p>Concentrating very hard on how she had felt when she'd realized she'd be leaving Privet Drive, Harriet got to her feet and faced the packing case once more.</p><p>"Ready?" said Howell, who looked as though she were doing this against her better judgment. "Concentrating hard? All right — go!"</p><p>She pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the Dementor rose out of it; the room fell cold and dark —</p><p>"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harriet bellowed. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"</p><p>The screaming inside Harriet’s head had started again — except this time, it sounded as though it were coming from a badly tuned radio — softer and louder and softer again…and she could still see the Dementor…it had halted…and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Harriet’s wand, to hover between her and the Dementor, and though Harriet’s legs felt like water, she was still on her feet — though for how much longer, she wasn't sure…</p><p>"Riddikulus!" roared Howell, springing forward.</p><p>There was a loud crack, and Harreit’s cloudy Patronus vanished along with the Dementor; she sank into a chair, feeling as exhausted as if she'd just run a mile, and felt her legs shaking. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Professor Howell forcing the Boggart back into the packing case with her wand; it had turned into a silvery orb again.</p><p>"Excellent!" Howell said, striding over to where Harriet sat. "Excellent, Harriet! That was definitely a start!"</p><p>"Can we have another go? Just one more go?"</p><p>"Not now," said Howell firmly. "You've had enough for one night. Here –"</p><p>She handed Harriet a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate.</p><p>"Eat the lot, or Master Pomfrey will be after my blood. Same time next week?"</p><p>"Okay," said Harriet. She took a bite of the chocolate and watched Howell extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the Dementor. A thought had just occurred to her.</p><p>"Professor Howell?" she said. "If you knew my dad, you must've known Siri Black as well."</p><p>Howell turned very quickly.</p><p>"What gives you that idea?" she said sharply.</p><p>"Nothing — I mean, I just knew they were friends at Hogwarts too…"</p><p>Howell’s face relaxed.</p><p>"Yes, I knew her," she said shortly. "Or I thought I did. You'd better be off, Harriet, it's getting late."</p><p>Harriet left the classroom, walking along the corridor and around a corner, then took a detour behind a suit of armor and sank down on its plinth to finish her chocolate, wishing she hadn't mentioned Black, as Howell was obviously not keen on the subject. Then Harriet’s thoughts wandered back to her mother and father... </p><p>She felt drained and strangely empty, even though she was so full of chocolate. Terrible though it was to hear her parents' last moments replayed inside her head, these were the only times Harriet had heard their voices since she was a very small child. But she'd never be able to produce a proper Patronus if she half wanted to hear her parents again...</p><p>"They're dead," she told herself sternly. "They're dead and listening to echoes of them won't bring them back. You'd better get a grip on yourself if you want that Quidditch Cup."</p><p>She stood up, crammed the last bit of chocolate into her mouth, and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.</p><p>Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Wood, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. She therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with Lupin's anti-Dementor classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Quidditch practices, Harriet had just one night a week to do all her homework. Even so, she was not showing the strain nearly as much as Hermes, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to him. Every night, without fail, Hermes was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; he barely spoke to anybody and snapped when he was interrupted.</p><p>"How's he doing it?" Ronnie muttered to Harriet one evening as Harriet sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Prince. Harriet looked up. Hermes was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.</p><p>"Doing what?"</p><p>"Getting to all his classes!" Ronnie said. "I heard him talking to Professor Vector, that Arithmancy witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Hermes can't've been there, because he was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Eleanor Macmillan told me he’s never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and he’s never missed one of them either!"</p><p>Harriet didn't have time to fathom the mystery of Hermes’ impossible schedule at the moment; she really needed to get on with Prince’s essay. Two seconds later, however, she was interrupted again, this time by Wood.</p><p>"Bad news, Harriet. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. He — er — got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told him I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch first." Wood shook her head in disbelief. "Honestly, the way he was yelling at me…you'd think I'd said something terrible. Then I asked him how much longer he was going to keep it…" She screwed up her face and imitated Professor McGonagall's severe voice. “‘As long as necessary, Wood’ I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom, Harriet. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick…you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Black’s got."</p><p>"I'm not buying anything Black thinks is good," said Harriet flatly.</p><p>January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Harriet still hadn't ordered a new broom. She was now asking Professor McGonagall for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Ronnie standing hopefully at her shoulder, Hermes rushing past with his face averted.</p><p>"No, Evans, you can't have it back yet," Professor McGonagall told her the twelfth time this happened, before she'd even opened her mouth. "We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me."</p><p>To make matters even worse, Harriet’s anti-Dementor lessons were not going nearly as well as she had hoped. Several sessions on, she was able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the Boggart-Dementor approached her, but her Patronus was too feeble to drive the Dementor away. All it did was hover, like a semitransparent cloud, draining Harriet of energy as she fought to keep it there. Harriet felt angry with herself, guilty about her secret desire to hear her parents' voices again.</p><p>"You're expecting too much of yourself," said Professor Howell, sternly in their fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old witch, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out anymore, are you?"</p><p>"I thought a Patronus would — charge the Dementors down or something," said Harriet dispiritedly. "Make them disappear –"</p><p>"The true Patronus does do that," said Howell. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."</p><p>"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," said Harriet.</p><p>"I have complete confidence in you," said Howell, smiling. "Here — you've earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks. You won't have tried it before –"</p><p>She pulled two bottles out of her briefcase.</p><p>"Butterbeer!" said Harriet, without thinking. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"</p><p>Howell raised an eyebrow.</p><p>"Oh — Ronnie and Hermes brought me some back from Hogsmeade," Harriet lied quickly.</p><p>"I see," said Howell, though she still looked slightly suspicious. "Well — let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher…" she added hastily.</p><p>They drank the butterbeer in silence, until Harriet voiced something she'd been wondering for a while.</p><p>"What's under a Dementor's hood?"</p><p>Professor Howell lowered her bottle thoughtfully.</p><p>"Hmmm … well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor lowers its hood only to use its last and worst weapon."</p><p>"What's that?"</p><p>"They call it the Dementor's Kiss," said Howell, with a slightly twisted smile. "It's what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and — and suck out his soul."</p><p>Harriet accidentally spat out a bit of butterbeer.</p><p>"What — they kill –?"</p><p>"Oh no," said Howell. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no…anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever…lost."<br/>
Howell drank a little more butterbeer, then said, "It's the fate that awaits Siri Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find her."</p><p>Harriet sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then she thought of Black.</p><p>"She deserves it," she said suddenly.</p><p>"You think so?" said Howell lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"</p><p>"Yes," said Harriet defiantly. "For…for some things…"</p><p>She would have liked to have told Howell about the conversation she'd overheard about Black in the Three Broomsticks, about Black betraying her mother and father, but it would have involved revealing that she'd gone to Hogsmeade without permission, and she knew Howell wouldn't be very impressed by that. So she finished her butterbeer, thanked Howell, and left the History of Magic classroom.</p><p>Harriet half wished that she hadn't asked what was under a Dementor's hood, the answer had been so horrible, and she was so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out of you that she walked headlong into Professor McGonagall halfway up the stairs.</p><p>"Do watch where you're going, Evans!"</p><p>"Sorry, Professor –"</p><p>"I've just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room, Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all — you've got a very good friend somewhere, Evans…"</p><p>Harriet’s jaw dropped. He was holding out her Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever.</p><p>"I can have it back?" Harriet said weakly. "Seriously?"</p><p>"Seriously," said Professor McGonagall, and he was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Evans — do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Prince was kind enough to remind me only last night…"</p><p>Speechless, Harriet carried the Firebolt back upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower. As she turned a corner, she saw Ronnie dashing toward her, grinning from ear to ear.</p><p>"He gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?"</p><p>"Yeah…anything…" said Harriet, her heart lighter than it had been in a month. "You know what — we should make up with Hermes… he was only trying to help…"</p><p>"Yeah, all right," said Ronnie. "He’s in the common room now working — for a change."</p><p>They turned into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and saw Netta Fortesque, pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing her entrance.</p><p>"I wrote them down!" Netta was saying tearfully. "But I must've dropped them somewhere!"</p><p>"A likely tale!" roared Sir Cadogan. Then, spotting Harriet and Ronnie: "Good even, my fine young yeowomen! Come clap this loon in irons. She is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"</p><p>"Oh, shut up," said Ronnie as she and Harriet drew level with Netta.</p><p>"I've lost the passwords!" Netta told them miserably. "I made her tell me what passwords she was going to use this week, because she keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"</p><p>"Oddsbodkins," said Harriet to Sir Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forward to let them into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Harriet was surrounded by people exclaiming over her Firebolt.</p><p>"Where'd you get it, Harriet?"</p><p>"Will you let me have a go?"</p><p>"Have you ridden it yet, Harriet?"</p><p>"Ravenclaw'll have no chance, they're all on Cleansweep Sevens!"</p><p>"Can I just hold it, Harriet?"</p><p>After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Harriet and Ronnie had a clear view of Hermes, the only person who hadn't rushed over to them, bent over his work and carefully avoiding their eyes. Harriet and Ronnie approached his table and at last, he looked up.</p><p>"I got it back," said Harriet, grinning at him and holding up the Firebolt.</p><p>"See, Hermes? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Ronnie.</p><p>"Well — there might have been!" said Hermes. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"</p><p>"Yeah, I suppose so," said Harriet. "I'd better put it upstairs."</p><p>"I'll take it!" said Ronnie eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."</p><p>She took the Firebolt and, holding it as if it were made of glass, carried it away up the girls' staircase.</p><p>"Can I sit down, then?" Harriet asked Hermes.</p><p>"I suppose so," said Hermes, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.</p><p>Harriet looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay ('Explain Why Muggles Need Electricity') and at the rune translation Hermes was now poring over.</p><p>"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Harriet asked him.</p><p>"Oh, well — you know — working hard," said Hermes. Close-up, Harriet saw that he looked almost as tired as Howell.</p><p>"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harriet asked, watching him lifting books as he searched for his rune dictionary.</p><p>"I couldn't do that!" said Hermes, looking scandalized.</p><p>"Arithmancy looks terrible," said Harriet, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.</p><p>"Oh no, it's wonderful!" said Hermes earnestly. "It's my favorite subject! It's –"</p><p>But exactly what was wonderful about Arithmancy, Harriet never found out. At that precise moment, a strangled yell echoed down the girls' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder — and then Ronnie came leaping into view, dragging with her a bedsheet.</p><p>"LOOK!" she bellowed, striding over to Hermes’ table. "LOOK!" she yelled, shaking the sheets in his face.</p><p>"Ronnie, what –?"</p><p>"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"</p><p>Hermes was leaning away from Ronnie, looking utterly bewildered. Harriet looked down at the sheet Ronnie was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like —</p><p>"BLOOD!" Ronnie yelled into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"</p><p>"N — no," said Hermes in a trembling voice.</p><p>Ronnie threw something down onto Hermes’ rune translation. Hermes and Harriet leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, ginger cat hairs.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It looked like the end of Ronnie and Hermes’ friendship. Each was so angry with the other that Harriet couldn't see how they'd ever make up.</p><p>Ronnie was enraged that Hermes had never taken Crookshanks's attempts to eat Scabbers seriously, hadn't bothered to keep a close enough watch on him, and was still trying to pretend that Crookshanks was innocent by suggesting that Ronnie look for Scabbers under all the girls' beds. Hermes, meanwhile, maintained fiercely that Ronnie had no proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, that the ginger hairs might have been there since Christmas, and that Ronnie had been prejudiced against his cat ever since Crookshanks had landed on Ronnie’s head in the Magical Menagerie.</p><p>Personally, Harriet was sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, and when she tried to point out to Hermes that the evidence all pointed that way, he lost his temper with Harriet too.<br/>"Okay, side with Ronnie, I knew you would!" he said shrilly. "First the Firebolt, now Scabbers, everything's my fault, isn't it! Just leave me alone, Harriet, I've got a lot of work to do!"</p><p>Ronnie had taken the loss of her rat very hard indeed.</p><p>"Come on, Ronnie, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," said Frankie bracingly. "And he's been off-color for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly — one swallow — he probably didn't feel a thing."</p><p>"Frankie!" said Jerry indignantly.</p><p>"All he did was eat and sleep, Ronnie, you said it yourself," said Georgina.<br/>"He bit Goyle for us once!" Ronnie said miserably. "Remember, Harriet?"</p><p>"Yeah, that's true," said Harriet.</p><p>"His finest hour," said Frankie, unable to keep a straight face. "Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ronnie, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat, what's the point of moaning?"</p><p>In a last-ditch attempt to cheer Ronnie up, Harriet persuaded her to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Ravenclaw match, so that she could have a ride on the Firebolt after they'd finished. This did seem to take Ronnie’s mind off Scabbers for a moment ("Great! Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?") so they set off for the Quidditch field together.</p><p>Master Hooch, who was still overseeing Gryffindor practices to keep an eye on Harriet, was just as impressed with the Firebolt as everyone else had been. He took it in his hands before takeoff and gave them the benefit of his professional opinion.</p><p>"Look at the balance on it! If the Nimbus series has a fault, it's a slight list to the tail end — you often find they develop a drag after a few years. They've updated the handle too, a bit slimmer than the Cleansweeps, reminds me of the old Silver Arrows — a pity they've stopped making them. I learned to fly on one, and a very fine old broom it was too…"</p><p>He continued in this vein for some time, until Wood said, "Er — Master Hooch? Is it okay if Harriet has the Firebolt back? We need to practice…"</p><p>"Oh — right — here you are, then, Evans," said Master Hooch. "I'll sit over here with Prewett…"</p><p>He and Ronnie left the field to sit in the stadium, and the Gryffindor team gathered around Wood for her final instructions for tomorrow's match.</p><p>"Harriet, I've just found out who Ravenclaw is playing as Seeker. It's Chen Chang. He’s a fourth year, and he’s pretty good…I really hoped he wouldn't be fit, he’s had some problems with injuries…" Wood scowled her displeasure that Chen Chang had made a full recovery, then said, "On the other hand, he rides a Comet Two Sixty, which is going to look like a joke next to the Firebolt." She gave Harriet’s broom a look of fervent admiration, then said, "Okay, everyone, let's go –"</p><p>And at long last, Harriet mounted her Firebolt, and kicked off from the ground.</p><p>It was better than she'd ever dreamed. The Firebolt turned with the lightest touch; it seemed to obey her thoughts rather than her grip; it sped across the field at such speed that the stadium turned into a green-and-gray blur; Harriet turned it so sharply that Alec Spinnet screamed, then she went into a perfectly controlled dive, brushing the grassy field with her toes before rising thirty, forty, fifty feet into the air again —</p><p>"Harriet, I'm letting the Snitch out!" Wood called.</p><p>Harriet turned and raced a Bludger toward the goal posts; she outstripped it easily, saw the Snitch dart out from behind Wood, and within ten seconds had caught it tightly in her hand.<br/>The team cheered madly. Harriet let the Snitch go again, gave it a minute's head start, then tore after it, weaving in and out of the others; she spotted it lurking near Kato Bell's knee, looped him easily, and caught it again.</p><p>It was the best practice ever; the team, inspired by the presence of the Firebolt in their midst, performed their best moves faultlessly, and by the time they hit the ground again, Wood didn't have a single criticism to make, which, as Georgina Prewett pointed out, was a first.</p><p>"I can't see what's going to stop us tomorrow!" said Wood. "Not unless — Harriet, you've sorted out your Dementor problem, haven't you?"</p><p>"Yeah," said Harriet, thinking of her feeble Patronus and wishing it were stronger.</p><p>"The Dementors won't turn up again, Olivia. Dumbledore'd go ballistic," said Frankie confidently.</p><p>"Well, let's hope not," said Wood. "Anyway — good work, everyone. Let's get back to the tower…turn in early…"</p><p>"I'm staying out for a bit; Ronnie wants a go on the Firebolt," Harriet told Wood, and while the rest of the team headed off to the locker rooms, Harriet strode over to Ronnie, who vaulted the barrier to the stands and came to meet her. Master Hooch had fallen asleep in his seat.</p><p>"Here you go," said Harriet, handing Ronnie the Firebolt.</p><p>Ronnie, an expression of ecstasy on her face, mounted the broom and zoomed off into the gathering darkness while Harriet walked around the edge of the field, watching her. Night had fallen before Master Hooch awoke with a start, told Harriet and Ronnie off for not waking him, and insisted that they go back to the castle.</p><p>Harriet shouldered the Firebolt and she and Ronnie walked out of the shadowy stadium, discussing the Firebolt's superbly smooth action, its phenomenal acceleration, and its pinpoint turning. They were halfway toward the castle when Harriet, glancing to her left, saw something that made her heart turn over — a pair of eyes, gleaming out of the darkness.<br/>Harriet stopped dead, her heart banging against her ribs.</p><p>"What's the matter?" said Ronnie.</p><p>Harriet pointed. Ronnie pulled out her wand and muttered, "Lumos!"</p><p>A beam of light fell across the grass, hit the bottom of a tree, and illuminated its branches; there, crouching among the budding leaves, was Crookshanks.</p><p>"Get out of here!" Ronnie roared, and she stooped down and seized a stone lying on the grass, but before she could do anything else, Crookshanks had vanished with one swish of his long ginger tail.</p><p>"See?" Ronnie said furiously, chucking the stone down again. "He’s still letting him wander about wherever he wants — probably washing down Scabbers with a couple of birds now…."</p><p>Harriet didn't say anything. She took a deep breath as relief seeped through her; she had been sure for a moment that those eyes had belonged to the Grim. They set off for the castle once more. slightly ashamed of her moment of panic, Harriet didn't say anything to Ronnie — nor did she look left or right until they had reached the well lit entrance hall.</p><p>Harriet went down to breakfast the next morning with the rest of the girls in her dormitory, all of whom seemed to think the Firebolt deserved a sort of guard of honor. As Harriet entered the Great Hall, heads turned in the direction of the Firebolt, and there was a good deal of excited muttering. Harriet saw, with enormous satisfaction, that the Slytherin team were all looking thunderstruck.</p><p>"Did you see her face?" said Ronnie gleefully, looking back at Black. "She can't believe it! This is brilliant!"</p><p>Wood, too, was basking in the reflected glory of the Firebolt.</p><p>"Put it here, Harriet," she said, laying the broom in the middle of the table and carefully turning it so that its name faced upward. People from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were soon coming over to look. Celia Diggory came over to congratulate Harriet on having acquired such a superb replacement for her Nimbus, and Penelope’s Ravenclaw girlfriend, Percy Clearwater, asked if he could actually hold the Firebolt.</p><p>"Now, now, Perce, no sabotage!" said Penelope heartily as he examined the Firebolt closely. "Percy and I have got a bet on," she told the team. "Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!"</p><p>Percy put the Firebolt down again, thanked Harriet, and went back to his table.</p><p>"Harriet — make sure you win," said Penelope, in an urgent whisper. "I haven't got ten Galleons. Yes, I'm coming, Perce!" And she bustled off to join him for a piece of toast.</p><p>"Sure you can manage that broom, Evans?" said a cold, drawling voice.</p><p>Dahlia Black had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind her.</p><p>"Yeah, reckon so," said Harriet casually.</p><p>"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Black, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute — in case you get too near a Dementor."</p><p>Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.</p><p>"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Black," said Harriet. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you."</p><p>The Gryffindor team laughed loudly. Black’s pale eyes narrowed, and she stalked away. They watched her rejoin the rest of the Slytherin team, who put their heads together, no doubt asking Black whether Harriet’s broom really was a Firebolt.</p><p>At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the locker rooms. The weather couldn't have been more different from their match against Hufflepuff. It was a clear, cool day with a very light breeze; there would be no visibility problems this time, and Harriet, though nervous, was starting to feel the excitement only a Quidditch match could bring. They could hear the rest of the school moving into the stadium beyond. Harriet took off her black school robes, removed her wand from her pocket, and stuck it inside the T-shirt she was going to wear under her robes. She only hoped she wouldn't need it. She wondered suddenly whether Professor Howell was in the crowd, watching.</p><p>"You know what we've got to do," said Wood as they prepared to leave the locker rooms. "If we lose this match, we're out of the running. just — just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we'll be okay!"</p><p>They walked out onto the field to tumultuous applause. The Ravenclaw team, dressed in blue, were already standing in the middle of the field. Their Seeker, Chen Chang, was the only boy on their team. He was shorter than Harriet by about a head, and Harriet couldn't help noticing, nervous as she was, that he was extremely handsome. He smiled at Harriet as the teams faced each other behind their captains, and she felt a slight lurch in the region of her stomach that she didn't think had anything to do with nerves.</p><p>"Wood, Davies, shake hands," Master Hooch said briskly, and Wood shook hands with the Ravenclaw Captain.</p><p>"Mount your brooms … on my whistle … three — two — one –"</p><p>Harriet kicked off into the air and the Firebolt zoomed higher and faster than any other broom; she soared around the stadium and began squinting around for the Snitch, listening all the while to the commentary, which was being provided by the Prewett twins' friend Leah Jordan.</p><p>"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harriet Evans is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship –"</p><p>"Jordan, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.</p><p>"Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information — the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and –"</p><p>"Jordan!"</p><p>"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Kato Bell of Gryffindor, heading for goal…"</p><p>Harriet streaked past Kato in the opposite direction, gazing around for a glint of gold and noticing that Chen Chang was tailing her closely. He was undoubtedly a very good flier — he kept cutting across her, forcing her to change direction.</p><p>"Show him your acceleration, Harriet!" Frankie yelled as she whooshed past in pursuit of a Bludger that was aiming for Alec.</p><p>Harriet urged the Firebolt forward as they rounded the Ravenclaw goal posts and Chen fell behind. Just as Kato succeeded in scoring the first goal of the match, and the Gryffindor end of the field went wild, she saw it — the Snitch was close to the ground, flitting near one of the barriers.</p><p>Harriet dived; Chen saw what she was doing and tore after her — Harriet was speeding up, excitement flooding her; dives were her specialty, she was ten feet away —</p><p>Then a Bludger, hit by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, came pelting out of nowhere; Harriet veered off course, avoiding it by an inch, and in those few, crucial seconds, the Snitch had vanished.</p><p>There was a great "Ooooooh" of disappointment from the Gryffindor supporters, but much applause for their Beater from the Ravenclaw end. Georgina Prewett vented her feelings by hitting the second Bludger directly at the offending Beater, who was forced to roll right over in midair to avoid it.</p><p>"Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Evans is really putting it through its paces now, see it turn — Chang's Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt's precision — balance is really noticeable in these long –"</p><p>"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"</p><p>Ravenclaw was pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead — if Chen got the Snitch before her, Ravenclaw would win. Harriet dropped lower, narrowly avoiding a Ravenclaw Chaser, scanning the field frantically — a glint of gold, a flutter of tiny wings — the Snitch was circling the Gryffindor goal post…</p><p>Harriet accelerated, eyes fixed on the speck of gold ahead — but just then, Chen appeared out of thin air, blocking her —</p><p>"HARRIET, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A LADY!" Wood roared as Harriet swerved to avoid a collision. "KNOCK HIM OFF HIS BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!"</p><p>Harriet turned and caught sight of Chen; he was grinning. The Snitch had vanished again. Harriet turned her Firebolt upward and was soon twenty feet above the game. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chen following her... he’d decided to mark her rather than search for the Snitch himself... All right, then… if he wanted to tail her, he’d have to take the consequences…</p><p>She dived again, and Chen, thinking she'd seen the Snitch, tried to follow; Harriet pulled out of the dive very sharply; he hurtled downward; she rose fast as a bullet once more, and then saw it, for the third time — the Snitch was glittering way above the field at the Ravenclaw end.</p><p>She accelerated; so, many feet below, did Chen. She was winning, gaining on the Snitch with every second — then —</p><p>"Oh!" screamed Chen, pointing.</p><p>Distracted, Harriet looked down.</p><p>Three Dementors, three tall, black, hooded Dementors, were looking up at her.</p><p>She didn't stop to think. Plunging a hand down the neck of her robes, she whipped out her wand and roared, "Expecto patronum!"</p><p>Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of her wand. She knew it had shot directly at the Dementors but didn't pause to watch; her mind still miraculously clear, she looked ahead — she was nearly there. She stretched out the hand still grasping her wand and just managed to close her fingers over the small, struggling Snitch.</p><p>Master Hooch's whistle sounded. Harriet turned around in midair and saw six scarlet blurs bearing down on her; next moment, the whole team was hugging her so hard she was nearly pulled off her broom. Down below she could hear the roars of the Gryffindors in the crowd.</p><p>"That's my girl!" Wood kept yelling. Alec, Anthony, and Kato had all kissed Harriet; Frankie had her in a grip so tight Harriet felt as though her head would come off. In complete disarray, the team managed to make its way back to the ground. Harriet got off her broom and looked up to see a gaggle of Gryffindor supporters sprinting onto the field, Ronnie in the lead. Before she knew it, she had been engulfed by the cheering crowd.</p><p>"Yes!" Ronnie yelled, yanking Harriet’s arm into the air. "Yes! Yes!"</p><p>"Well done, Harriet!" said Penelope, looking delighted. "Ten Galleons to me! Must find Percy, excuse me –"</p><p>"Good for you, Harriet!" roared Sinead Finnigan.</p><p>"Ruddy brilliant!" boomed Hagrid over the heads of the milling Gryffindors.</p><p>"That was quite some Patronus," said a voice in Harriet’s ear.</p><p>Harriet turned around to see Professor Howell, who looked both shaken and pleased.</p><p>"The Dementors didn't affect me at all!" Harriet said excitedly. "I didn't feel a thing!"</p><p>"That would be because they — er — weren't Dementors," said Professor Howell. "Come and see — "</p><p>She led Harriet out of the crowd until they were able to see the edge of the field.</p><p>"You gave Miss Black quite a fright," said Howell.</p><p>Harriet stared. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Black, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcella Flint, the Slytherin team Captain, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Black had been standing on Goyle's shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on his face, was Professor McGonagall.</p><p>"An unworthy trick!" he was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here she comes now!"</p><p>If anything could have set the seal on Gryffindor's victory, it was this. Ronnie, who had fought her way through to Harriet’s side, doubled up with laughter as they watched Black fighting to extricate herself from the robe, Goyle's head still stuck inside it.</p><p>"Come on, Harriet!" said Georgina, fighting her way over. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"</p><p>"Right," said Harriet, and feeling happier than she had in ages, she and the rest of the team led the way, still in their scarlet robes, out of the stadium and back up to the castle.<br/>It felt as though they had already won the Quidditch Cup; the party went on all day and well into the night. Frankie and Georgina Prewett disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of butterbeer, pumpkin fizz, and several bags full of Honeydukes sweets.</p><p>"How did you do that?" squealed Anthony Johnson as Georgina started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.</p><p>"With a little help from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Frankie muttered in Harriet’s ear.</p><p>Only one person wasn't joining in the festivities. Hermes, incredibly, was sitting in a corner, attempting to read an enormous book entitled Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles. Harriet broke away from the table where Frankie and Georgina had started juggling butterbeer bottles and went over to him.</p><p>"Did you even come to the match?" she asked him.</p><p>"Of course I did," said Hermes in a strangely high-pitched voice, not looking up. "And I'm very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday."</p><p>"Come on, Hermes, come and have some food," Harriet said, looking over at Ronnie and wondering whether she was in a good enough mood to bury the hatchet.</p><p>"I can't, Harriet. I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!" said Hermes, now sounding slightly hysterical. "Anyway…" He glanced over at Ronnie too. "She doesn't want me to join in."</p><p>There was no arguing with this, as Ronnie chose that moment to say loudly, "If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten, he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them –"</p><p>Hermes burst into tears. Before Harriet could say or do anything, he tucked the enormous book under his arm, and, still sobbing, ran toward the staircase to the boys' dormitories and out of sight.</p><p>"Can't you give him a break?" Harriet asked Ronnie quietly.</p><p>"No," said Ronnie flatly. "If he just acted like he was sorry — but he’ll never admit he’s wrong, Hermes. He’s still acting like Scabbers has gone on vacation or something."</p><p>The Gryffindor party ended only when Professor McGonagall turned up in his tartan dressing gown at one in the morning, to insist that they all go to bed. Harriet and Ronnie climbed the stairs to their dormitory, still discussing the match. At last, exhausted, Harriet climbed into bed, twitched the hangings of her four-poster shut to block out a ray of moonlight, lay back, and felt herself almost instantly drifting off to sleep…</p><p>She had a very strange dream. She was walking through a forest, her Firebolt over her shoulder, following something silvery-white. It was winding its way through the trees ahead, and she could only catch glimpses of it between the leaves. Anxious to catch up with it, she sped up, but as she moved faster, so did her quarry. Harriet broke into a run, and ahead she heard hooves gathering speed. Now she was running flat out, and ahead she could hear galloping. Then she turned a corner into a clearing and —</p><p>"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGHHHHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"</p><p>Harriet woke as suddenly as though she'd been hit in the face. Disoriented in the total darkness, she fumbled with her hangings, she could hear movements around her, and Sinead Finnigan's voice from the other side of the room.</p><p>"What's going on?"</p><p>Harriet thought she heard the dormitory door slam. At last finding the divide in her curtains, she ripped them back, and at the same moment, Dinah Thomas lit her lamp.</p><p>Ronnie  was sitting up in bed, the hangings torn from one side, a look of utmost terror on her face.</p><p>"Black! Siri Black! With a knife!"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Here! Just now! Slashed the curtains! Woke me up!"</p><p>"You sure you weren't dreaming, Ronnie?" said Dinah.</p><p>"Look at the curtains! I tell you, she was here!"</p><p>They all scrambled out of bed; Harriet reached the dormitory door first, and they sprinted back down the staircase. Doors opened behind them, and sleepy voices called after them.</p><p>"Who shouted?"</p><p>"What're you doing?"</p><p>The common room was lit with the glow of the dying fire, still littered with the debris from the party. It was deserted.</p><p>"Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ronnie?"</p><p>"I'm telling you, I saw her!"</p><p>"What's all the noise?"</p><p>"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!"</p><p>A few of the boys had come down their staircase, pulling on dressing gowns and yawning. Girls, too, were reappearing.</p><p>"Excellent, are we carrying on?" said Frankie Prewett brightly.</p><p>"Everyone back upstairs!" said Penelope, hurrying into the common room and pinning her Head Girl badge to her pajamas as she spoke.</p><p>"Penelope — Siri Black!" said Ronnie faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"</p><p>The common room went very still.</p><p>"Nonsense!" said Penelope, looking startled. "You had too much to eat, Ronnie — had a nightmare –"</p><p>"I'm telling you –"</p><p>"Now, really, enough's enough!"</p><p>Professor McGonagall was back. He slammed the portrait behind him as he entered the common room and stared furiously around.<br/>"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Penelope, I expected better of you!"</p><p>"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" said Penelope, puffing herself up indignantly. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ronnie here had a nightmare –"</p><p>"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ronnie yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRI BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"</p><p>Professor McGonagall stared at her.</p><p>"Don't be ridiculous, Prewett, how could she possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"</p><p>"Ask her!" said Ronnie, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask her if she saw –"</p><p>Glaring suspiciously at Ronnie, Professor McGonagall pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened with bated breath. "Sir Cadogan, did you just let a woman enter Gryffindor Tower?"</p><p>"Certainly, good sir!" cried Sir Cadogan.</p><p>There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.</p><p>"You — you did?" said Professor McGonagall. "But — but the password!"</p><p>"She had 'em!" said Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, sir! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"</p><p>Professor McGonagall pulled himself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. He was white as chalk.</p><p>"Which person," he said, his voice shaking, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"</p><p>There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Netta Fortesque, trembling from head to fluffy slippered toes, raised her hand slowly into the air.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Prince’s Grudge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>No one in Gryffindor Tower slept that night. They knew that the castle was being searched again, and the whole House stayed awake in the common room, waiting to hear whether Black had been caught. Professor McGonagall came back at dawn, to tell them that she had again escaped.</p><p>Throughout the day, everywhere they went they saw signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Siri Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes. Sir Cadogan had been fired. His portrait had been taken back to its lonely landing on the seventh floor, and the Fat Lady was back. She had been expertly restored, but was still extremely nervous, and had agreed to return to her job only on condition that she was given extra protection. A bunch of surly security trolls had been hired to guard her. They paced the corridor in a menacing group, talking in grunts and comparing the size of their clubs.</p><p>Harriet couldn't help noticing that the statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor remained unguarded and unblocked. It seemed that Frankie and Georgina had been right in thinking that they — and now Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes — were the only ones who knew about the hidden passageway within it.</p><p>"D'you reckon we should tell someone?" Harriet asked Ronnie.</p><p>"We know she's not coming in through Honeyduke's," said Ronnie dismissively. "We'd've heard if the shop had been broken into."</p><p>Harriet was glad Ronnie took this view. If the one-eyed witch was boarded up too, she would never be able to go into Hogsmeade again.</p><p>Ronnie had become an instant celebrity. For the first time in her life, people were paying more attention to her than to Harriet, and it was clear that Ronnie was rather enjoying the experience. Though still severely shaken by the night's events, she was happy to tell anyone who asked what had happened, with a wealth of detail.</p><p>"… I was asleep, and I heard this ripping noise, and I thought it was in my dream, you know? But then there was this draft…I woke up and one side of the hangings on my bed had been pulled down…I rolled over…and I saw her standing over me…like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair…holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches…and she looked at me, and I looked at her, and then I yelled, and she scampered.</p><p>"Why, though?" Ronnie added to Harriet as the group of second year boys who had been listening to her chilling tale departed. "Why did she run?"</p><p>Harriet had been wondering the same thing. Why had Black, having got the wrong bed, not silenced Ronnie and proceeded to Harriet? Black had proved twelve years ago that she didn't mind murdering innocent people, and this time she had been facing five unarmed girls, four of whom were asleep.</p><p>"She must've known she'd have a job getting back out of the castle once you'd yelled and woken people up," said Harriet thoughtfully. "She’d’ve had to kill the whole house to get back through the portrait hole…then she would've met the teachers…"</p><p>Netta was in total disgrace. Professor McGonagall was so furious with her he had banned her from all future Hogsmeade visits, given her a detention, and forbidden anyone to give her the password into the tower. Netta was forced to wait outside the common room every night for somebody to let her in, while the security trolls leered unpleasantly at her. None of these punishments, however, came close to matching the one her grandfather had in store for her. Two days after Black's break-in, he sent Netta the very worst thing a Hogwarts student could receive over breakfast — a Howler.</p><p>The school owls swooped into the Great Hall carrying the mail as usual, and Netta choked as a huge barn owl landed in front of her, a scarlet envelope clutched in its beak. Harriet and Ronnie, who were sitting opposite her, recognized the letter as a Howler at once — Ronnie had got one from her father the year before.</p><p>"Run for it, Netta," Ronnie advised.</p><p>Netta didn't need telling twice. She seized the envelope, and holding it before her like a bomb, sprinted out of the hall, while the Slytherin table exploded with laughter at the sight of her. They heard the Howler go off in the entrance hall — Netta’s grandfather’s voice, magically magnified to a hundred times its usual volume, shrieking about how she had brought shame on the whole family.</p><p>Harriet was too busy feeling sorry for Netta to notice immediately that she had a letter too. Hedwig got her attention by nipping her sharply on the wrist.</p><p>"Ouch! Oh — thanks, Hedwig."</p><p>Harriet tore open the envelope while Hedwig helped herself to some of Netta’s cornflakes. The note inside said:</p><p>“Dear Harriet and Ronnie,</p><p>How about having tea with me this afternoon 'round six? I'll come collect you from the castle. WAIT FOR ME IN THE ENTRANCE HALL; YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OUT ON YOUR OWN.</p><p>Cheers,<br/>Hagrid”</p><p>"She probably wants to hear all about Black!" said Ronnie.</p><p>So at six o'clock that afternoon, Harriet and Ronnie left Gryffindor Tower, passed the security trolls at a run, and headed down to the entrance hall.</p><p>Hagrid was already waiting for them.</p><p>"All right, Hagrid!" said Ronnie. "S'pose you want to hear about Saturday night, do you?"</p><p>"I've already heard all abou' it," said Hagrid, opening the front doors and leading them outside.</p><p>"Oh," said Ronnie, looking slightly put out.</p><p>The first thing they saw on entering Hagrid's cabin was Buckbeak, who was stretched out on top of Hagrid's patchwork quilt, his enormous wings folded tight to his body, enjoying a large plate of dead ferrets. Averting her eyes from this unpleasant sight, Harriet saw a gigantic, hairy brown suit and a very horrible yellow-and-orange tie hanging from the top of Hagrid's wardrobe door.</p><p>"What are they for, Hagrid?" said Harriet.</p><p>"Buckbeak's case against the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures," said Hagrid. "This Friday. Him an' me'll be goin' down ter London together. I've booked two beds on the Knight Bus…."</p><p>Harriet felt a nasty pang of guilt. She had completely forgotten that Buckbeak's trial was so near, and judging by the uneasy look on Ronnie’s face, she had too. They had also forgotten their promise about helping her prepare Buckbeak's defense; the arrival of the Firebolt had driven it clean out of their minds.</p><p>Hagrid poured them tea and offered them a plate of Chelsea buns but they knew better than to accept; they had had too much experience with Hagrid's cooking.</p><p>"I got somethin' ter discuss with you two," said Hagrid, sitting herself between them and looking uncharacteristically serious.</p><p>"What?" said Harriet.</p><p>"Hermes," said Hagrid.</p><p>"What about him?" said Ronnie.</p><p>"He’s in a righ' state, that's what. He’s bin comin' down ter visit me a lot since Chris'mas. Bin feelin' lonely. Firs' yeh weren' talking to him because o' the Firebolt, now yer not talkin' to him because his cat –"</p><p>"He ate Scabbers!" Ronnie interjected angrily.</p><p>"Because his cat acted like all cats do," Hagrid continued doggedly. "He’s cried a fair few times, yeh know. Goin' through a rough time at the moment. Bitten off more'n he can chew, if yeh ask me, all the work he’s tryin' ter do. Still found time ter help me with Buckbeak's case, mind… he’s found some really good stuff fer me… reckon he'll stand a good chance now…"</p><p>"Hagrid, we should've helped as well — sorry –" Harriet began awkwardly.</p><p>"I'm not blamin' yeh!" said Hagrid, waving Harriet’s apology aside. "Gawd knows yeh've had enough ter be getting' on with. I've seen yeh practicin' Quidditch ev'ry hour o' the day an' night — but I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two'd value yer friend more'n broomsticks or rats. Tha's all."</p><p>Harriet and Ronnie exchanged uncomfortable looks.</p><p>"Really upset, he was, when Black nearly stabbed yeh, Ronnie. He’s got his heart in the right place, Hermes has, an' you two not talkin' to him –"</p><p>"If he’d just get rid of that cat, I'd speak to him again!" Ronnie said angrily. "But he’s still sticking up for it! It's a maniac, and he won't hear a word against it!"</p><p>"Ah, well, people can be a bit stupid abou' their pets," said Hagrid wisely. Behind her, Buckbeak spat a few ferret bones onto Hagrid's pillow.</p><p>They spent the rest of their visit discussing Gryffindor's improved chances for the Quidditch Cup. At nine o'clock, Hagrid walked them back up to the castle.</p><p>A large group of people was bunched around the bulletin board when they returned to the common room.</p><p>"Hogsmeade, next weekend!" said Ronnie, craning over the heads to read the new notice. "What d'you reckon?" she added quietly to Harriet as they went to sit down.</p><p>"Well, Filch hasn't done anything about the passage into Honeydukes…" Harriet said, even more quietly.</p><p>"Harriet!" said a voice in her right ear. Harriet started and looked around at Hermes, who was sitting at the table right behind them and clearing a space in the wall of books that had been hiding him.</p><p>"Harriet, if you go into Hogsmeade again…I'll tell Professor McGonagall about that map!" said Hermes.</p><p>"Can you hear someone talking, Harriet?" growled Ronnie, not looking at Hermes.</p><p>"Ronnie, how can you let her go with you? After what Siri Black nearly did to you! I mean it, I'll tell –"</p><p>"So now you're trying to get Harriet expelled!" said Ronnie furiously. "Haven't you done enough damage this year?"</p><p>Hermes opened his mouth to respond, but with a soft hiss, Crookshanks leapt onto his lap. Hermes took one frightened look at the expression on Ronnie’s face, gathered up Crookshanks, and hurried away toward the boys' dormitories.</p><p>"So how about it?" Ronnie said to Harriet as though there had been no interruption. "Come on, last time we went you didn't see anything. You haven't even been inside Zonko's yet!"</p><p>Harriet looked around to check that Hermes was well out of earshot.</p><p>"Okay," she said. "But I'm taking the Invisibility Cloak this time."</p><p>On Saturday morning, Harriet packed her Invisibility Cloak in her bag, slipped the Marauder's Map into her pocket, and went down to breakfast with everyone else. Hermes kept shooting suspicious looks down the table at her, but she avoided his eye and was careful to let him see her walking back up the marble staircase in the entrance hall as everybody else proceeded to the front doors.</p><p>"Bye!" Harriet called to Ronnie. "See you when you get back!"</p><p>Ronnie grinned and winked.</p><p>Harriet hurried up to the third floor, slipping the Marauder's Map out of her pocket as she went. Crouching behind the one-eyed witch, she smoothed it out. A tiny dot was moving in her direction. Harriet squinted at it. The minuscule writing next to it read Netta Fortesque.</p><p>Harriet quickly pulled out her wand, muttered, "Dissendium!" and shoved her bag into the statue, but before she could climb in herself, Netta came around the corner.</p><p>"Harriet! I forgot you weren't going to Hogsmeade either!"</p><p>"Hi, Netta," said Harriet, moving swiftly away from the statue and pushing the map back into her pocket. "What are you up to?"</p><p>"Nothing," shrugged Netta. "Want a game of Exploding Snap?"</p><p>"Er — not now — I was going to go to the library and do that vampire essay for Howell –"</p><p>"I'll come with you!" said Netta brightly. "I haven't done it either!"</p><p>"Er — hang on — yeah, I forgot, I finished it last night!"</p><p>"Great, you can help me!" said Netta, her round face anxious. "I don't understand that thing about the garlic at all — do they have to eat it, or –"</p><p>She broke off with a small gasp, looking over Harriet’s shoulder.</p><p>It was Prince. Netta took a quick step behind Harriet.</p><p>"And what are you two doing here?" said Prince, coming to a halt and looking from one to the other. "An odd place to meet –"</p><p>To Harriet’s immense disquiet, Prince’s black eyes flicked to the doorways on either side of them, and then to the one-eyed witch.</p><p>"We're not — meeting here," said Harriet. "We just — met here."</p><p>"Indeed?" said Prince. "You have a habit of turning up in unexpected places, Evans, and you are very rarely there for no good reason…I suggest the pair of you return to Gryffindor Tower, where you belong."</p><p>Harriet and Netta set off without another word. As they turned the corner, Harriet looked back. Prince was running one of her hands over the one-eyed witch's head, examining it closely.<br/>Harriet managed to shake Netta off at the Fat Lady by telling her the password, then pretending she'd left her vampire essay in the library and doubling back. Once out of sight of the security trolls, she pulled out the map again and held it close to her nose.</p><p>The third floor corridor seemed to be deserted. Harriet scanned the map carefully and saw, with a leap of relief, that the tiny dot labeled Stevanie Prince was now back in its office.<br/>She sprinted back to the one-eyed witch, opened her hump, heaved herself inside, and slid down to meet her bag at the bottom of the stone chute. She wiped the Marauder's Map blank again, then set off at a run.</p><p>Harriet, completely hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, emerged into the sunlight outside Honeydukes and prodded Ronnie in the back.</p><p>"It's me," she muttered.</p><p>"What kept you?" Ronnie hissed.</p><p>"Prince was hanging around."</p><p>They set off up the High Street.</p><p>"Where are you?" Ronnie kept muttering out of the corner of her mouth. "Are you still there? This feels weird…"</p><p>They went to the post office; Ronnie pretended to be checking the price of an owl to Beth in Egypt so that Harriet could have a good look around. The owls sat hooting softly down at her, at least three hundred of them; from Great Grays right down to tiny little Scops owls ("Local Deliveries Only"), which were so small they could have sat in the palm of Harriet’s hand.</p><p>Then they visited Zonko's, which was so packed with students Harriet had to exercise great care not to tread on anyone and cause a panic. There were jokes and tricks to fulfill even Frankie and Georgina’s wildest dreams; Harriet gave Ronnie whispered orders and passed her some gold from under the cloak. They left Zonko's with their money bags considerably lighter than they had been on entering, but their pockets bulging with Dungbombs, Hiccup Sweets, Frog Spawn Soap, and a Nose-Biting Teacup apiece.</p><p>The day was fine and breezy, and neither of them felt like staying indoors, so they walked past the Three Broomsticks and climbed a slope to visit the Shrieking Shack, the most haunted dwelling in Britain. It stood a little way above the rest of the village, and even in daylight was slightly creepy, with its boarded windows and dank overgrown garden.</p><p>"Even the Hogwarts ghosts avoid it," said Ronnie as they leaned on the fence, looking up at it. "I asked Nearly Headless Nick…he says he's heard a very rough crowd lives here. No one can get in. Frankie and Georgina tried, obviously, but all the entrances are sealed shut…"</p><p>Harriet, feeling hot from their climb, was just considering taking off the cloak for a few minutes when they heard voices nearby. Someone was climbing toward the house from the other side of the hill; moments later, Black had appeared, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle. Black was speaking.</p><p>"…should have an owl from Mother any time now. She had to go to the hearing to tell them about my arm…about how I couldn't use it for three months…"</p><p>Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.</p><p>"I really wish I could hear that great hairy moron trying to defend herself…'There's no 'arm in 'im, 'onest –'…That Hippogriff's as good as dead –"</p><p>Black suddenly caught sight of Ronnie. Her pale face split in a malevolent grin.</p><p>"What are you doing, Prewett?"</p><p>Black looked up at the crumbling house behind Ronnie.</p><p>"Suppose you'd love to live here, wouldn't you, Prewett? Dreaming about having your own bedroom? I heard your family all sleep in one room — is that true?"</p><p>Harriet seized the back of Ronnie’s robes to stop her from leaping on Black.</p><p>"Leave her to me," she hissed in Ronnie’s ear.</p><p>The opportunity was too perfect to miss. Harriet crept silently around behind Black, Crabbe, and Goyle, bent down, and scooped a large handful of mud out of the path.</p><p>"We were just discussing your friend Hagrid," Black said to Ron. "Just trying to imagine what she's saying to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. D'you think she'll cry when they cut off her Hippogriff's –"</p><p>SPLAT!</p><p>Black’s head jerked forward as the mud hit her; her silverblond hair was suddenly dripping in muck.</p><p>"What the –?"</p><p>Ronnie had to hold onto the fence to keep herself standing, she was laughing so hard. Black, Crabbe, and Goyle spun stupidly on the spot, staring wildly around, Black trying to wipe her hair clean.</p><p>"What was that? Who did that?"</p><p>"Very haunted up here, isn't it?" said Ronnie, with the air of one commenting on the weather.</p><p>Crabbe and Goyle were looking scared. Their bulging muscles were no use against ghosts. Black was staring madly around at the deserted landscape.</p><p>Harriet sneaked along the path, where a particularly sloppy puddle yielded some foul-smelling, green sludge.</p><p>SPLATTER!</p><p>Crabbe and Goyle caught some this time. Goyle hopped furiously on the spot, trying to rub it out of her small, dull eyes.</p><p>"It came from over there!" said Black, wiping her face, and staring at a spot some six feet to the left of Harriet.</p><p>Crabbe blundered forward, her long arms outstretched like a zombie. Harriet dodged around her, picked up a stick, and lobbed it at Crabbe's back. Harriet doubled up with silent laughter as Crabbe did a kind of pirouette in midair, trying to see who had thrown it. As Ronnie was the only person Crabbe could see, it was Ronnie she started toward, but Harriet stuck out his leg. Crabbe stumbled — and her huge, flat foot caught the hem of Harriet’s cloak. Harriet felt a great tug, then the cloak slid off her face.</p><p>For a split second, Black stared at her.</p><p>"AAARGH!" she yelled, pointing at Harriet’s head. Then she turned tail and ran, at breakneck speed, back down the hill, Crabbe and Goyle behind her.</p><p>Harriet tugged the cloak up again, but the damage was done.</p><p>"Harriet!" Ronnie said, stumbling forward and staring hopelessly at the point where Harriet had disappeared, "you'd better run for it! If Black tells anyone — you'd better get back to the castle, quick –"</p><p>"See you later," said Harriet, and without another word, she tore back down the path toward Hogsmeade.</p><p>Would Black believe what she had seen? Would anyone believe Black? Nobody knew about the Invisibility Cloak — nobody except Dumbledore. Harriet’s stomach turned over — Dumbledore would know exactly what had happened, if Black said anything —</p><p>Back into Honeydukes, back down the cellar steps, across the stone floor, through the trapdoor — Harriet pulled off the cloak, tucked it under her arm, and ran, flat out, along the passage… Black would get back first… how long would it take her to find a teacher? Panting, a sharp pain in his side, Harriet didn't slow down until she reached the stone slide. She would have to leave the cloak where it was, it was too much of a giveaway in case Black had tipped off a teacher — she hid it in a shadowy corner, then started to climb, fast as she could, her sweaty hands slipping on the sides of the chute. She reached the inside of the witch's hump, tapped it with her wand, stuck her head through, and hoisted herself out; the hump closed, and just as Harriet jumped out from behind the statue, she heard quick footsteps approaching.</p><p>It was Prince. She approached Harriet at a swift walk, her black robes swishing, then stopped in front of her.</p><p>"So," she said.</p><p>There was a look of suppressed triumph about her. Harriet tried to look innocent, all too aware of her sweaty face and her muddy hands, which she quickly hid in her pockets.</p><p>"Come with me, Evans," said Prince.</p><p>Harriet followed her downstairs, trying to wipe her hands clean on the inside of her robes without Prince noticing. They walked down the stairs to the dungeons and then into Prince’s office.</p><p>Harriet had been in here only once before, and she had been in very serious trouble then too. Prince had acquired a few more slimy horrible things in jars since last time, all standing on shelves behind her desk, glinting in the firelight and adding to the threatening atmosphere.</p><p>"Sit," said Prince.</p><p>Harriet sat. Prince, however, remained, standing.</p><p>"Mr. Black has just been to see me with a strange story, Evans," said Prince.</p><p>Harriet didn't say anything.</p><p>"She tells me that she was up by the Shrieking Shack when she ran into Prewett — apparently alone."</p><p>Still, Harriet didn't speak.</p><p>"Mr. Black states that she was standing talking to Prewett, when a large amount of mud hit her in the back of the head. How do you think that could have happened?"</p><p>Harriet tried to look mildly surprised.</p><p>"I don't know, Professor."</p><p>Prince’s eyes were boring into Harriet’s. It was exactly like trying to stare down a Hippogriff. Harriet tried hard not to blink.</p><p>"Mr. Black then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been, Evans?"</p><p>"No," said Harriet, now trying to sound innocently curious.</p><p>"It was your head, Evans. Floating in midair."</p><p>There was a long silence.</p><p>"Maybe she'd better go to Master Pomfrey," said Harriet. "If she's seeing things like –"</p><p>"What would your head have been doing in Hogsmeade, Evans?" said Prince softly. "Your head is not allowed in Hogsmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Hogsmeade."</p><p>"I know that," said Harriet, striving to keep her face free of guilt or fear. "It sounds like Black’s having hallucin –"</p><p>"Black is not having hallucinations," snarled Prince, and she bent down, a hand on each arm of Harriet’s chair, so that their faces were a foot apart. "If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you."</p><p>"I've been up in Gryffindor Tower," said Harriet. "Like you told –"</p><p>"Can anyone confirm that?"</p><p>Harriet didn't say anything. Prince’s thin mouth curled into a horrible smile.</p><p>"So," she said, straightening up again. "Everyone from the Minister of Magic downward has been trying to keep famous Harriet Evans safe from Siri Black. But famous Harriet Evans is a law unto herself. Let the ordinary people worry about her safety! Famous Harriet Evans goes where she wants to, with no thought for the consequences."</p><p>Harriet stayed silent. Prince was trying to provoke her into telling the truth. She wasn't going to do it. Prince had no proof — yet.</p><p>"How extraordinarily like your mother you are, Evans," Prince said suddenly, her eyes glinting. "She too was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Quidditch field made her think she was a cut above the rest of us too. Strutting around the place with her friends and admirers…The resemblance between you is uncanny."</p><p>"My mum didn't strut," said Harriet, before she could stop herself. "And neither do I."</p><p>"Your mother didn't set much store by rules either," Prince went on, pressing her advantage, her thin face full of malice. "Rules were for lesser mortals, not Quidditch Cup-winners. Her head was so swollen –"</p><p>"SHUT UP!"</p><p>Harriet was suddenly on her feet. Rage such as she had not felt since her last night in Privet Drive was coursing through her. She didn't care that Prince’s face had gone rigid, the black eyes flashing dangerously.</p><p>"What did you say to me, Evans?"</p><p>"I told you to shut up about my mum!" Harriet yelled. "I know the truth, all right? She saved your life! Dumbledore told me! You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for my mum!"</p><p>Prince’s sallow skin had gone the color of sour milk.</p><p>"And did the headmistress tell you the circumstances in which your mother saved my life?" she whispered. "Or did she consider the details too unpleasant for precious Evans’ delicate ears?"</p><p>Harriet bit her lip. She didn't know what had happened and didn't want to admit it — but Prince seemed to have guessed the truth.</p><p>"I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your mother, Evans," she said, a terrible grin twisting her face. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you — your saintly mother and her friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your mother hadn't got cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what she did. She was saving her own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, she would have been expelled from Hogwarts."</p><p>Prince’s uneven, yellowish teeth were bared.</p><p>"Turn out your pockets, Evans!" she spat suddenly.</p><p>Harriet didn't move. There was a pounding in her ears.</p><p>"Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the headmistress! Pull them out, Evans!"</p><p>Cold with dread, Harriet slowly pulled out the bag of Zonko's tricks and the Marauder's Map.<br/>Prince picked up the Zonko's bag.</p><p>"Ronnie gave them to me," said Harriet, praying she'd get a chance to tip Ronnie off before Prince saw her. "She brought them back from Hogsmeade last time –"</p><p>"Indeed? And you've been carrying them around ever since? How very touching…and what is this?"</p><p>Prince had picked up the map. Harriet tried with all her might to keep her face impassive.</p><p>"Spare bit of parchment," she said with a shrug.</p><p>Prince turned it over, her eyes on Harriet.</p><p>"Surely you don't need such a very old piece of parchment?" she said. "Why don't I just — throw this away?"</p><p>Her hand moved toward the fire.</p><p>"No!" Harriet said quickly.</p><p>"So!" said Prince, her long nostrils quivering. "Is this another treasured gift from Miss Prewett? Or is it — something else? A letter, perhaps, written in invisible ink? Or — instructions to get into Hogsmeade without passing the Dementors?"</p><p>Harriet blinked. Prince’s eyes gleamed.</p><p>"Let me see, let me see…" she muttered, taking out her wand and smoothing the map out on her desk. "Reveal your secret!" she said, touching the wand to the parchment.</p><p>Nothing happened. Harriet clenched her hands to stop them from shaking.</p><p>"Show yourself!" Prince said, tapping the map sharply.</p><p>It stayed blank. Harriet was taking deep, calming breaths.</p><p>"Professor Stevanie Prince, mistress of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!" Prince said, hitting the map with her wand.</p><p>As though an invisible hand were writing upon it, words appeared on the smooth surface of the map.</p><p>"Miss Moony presents her compliments to Professor Prince, and begs her to keep her abnormally large nose out of other people's business."</p><p>Prince froze. Harriet stared, dumbstruck, at the message. But the map didn't stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first.</p><p>"Miss Prongs agrees with Miss Moony and would like to add that Professor Prince is an ugly git."</p><p>It would have been very funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. And there was more...</p><p>"Miss Padfoot would like to register her astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor."</p><p>Harriet closed her eyes in horror. When she'd opened them, the map had had its last word.</p><p>"Miss Wormtail bids Professor Prince good day, and advises her to wash her hair, the slimeball."</p><p>Harruet waited for the blow to fall.</p><p>"So…" said Prince softly. "We'll see about this…"</p><p>She strode across to her fire, seized a fistful of glittering powder from a jar on the fireplace, and threw it into the flames.</p><p>"Howell!" Prince called into the fire. "I want a word!"</p><p>Utterly bewildered, Harriet stared at the fire. A large shape had appeared in it, revolving very fast. Seconds later, Professor Howell was clambering out of the fireplace, brushing ash off her shabby robes.</p><p>"You called, Stevanie?" said Howell mildly.</p><p>"I certainly did," said Prince, her face contorted with fury as she strode back to her desk. "I have just asked Evans to empty her pockets. She was carrying this."</p><p>Prince pointed at the parchment, on which the words of Misses Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs were still shining. An odd, closed expression appeared on Howell’s face.</p><p>"Well?" said Prince.</p><p>Howell continued to stare at the map. Harriet had the impression that Howell was doing some very quick thinking.</p><p>"Well?" said Prince again. "This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic. This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Howell. Where do you imagine Evans got such a thing?"</p><p>Howell looked up and, by the merest half-glance in Harriet’s direction, warned her not to interrupt.</p><p>"Full of Dark Magic?" she repeated mildly. "Do you really think so, Stevanie? It looks to me as though it is merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who reads it. Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Harriet got it from a joke shop –"</p><p>"Indeed?" said Prince. Her jaw had gone rigid with anger. "You think a joke shop could supply her with such a thing? You don't think it more likely that she got it directly from the manufacturers?"</p><p>Harriet didn't understand what Prince was talking about. Nor, apparently, did Howell.</p><p>"You mean, by Miss Wormtail or one of these people?" she said. "Harriet, do you know any of these women?"</p><p>"No," said Harriet quickly.</p><p>"You see, Stevanie?" said Howell, turning back to Prince. "It looks like a Zonko product to me –"</p><p>Right on cue, Ronnie came bursting into the office. She was completely out of breath, and stopped just short of Prince’s desk, clutching the stitch in her chest and trying to speak.</p><p>"I — gave — Harriet — that — stuff," she choked. "Bought — it… in Zonko's… ages — ago…"</p><p>"Well!" said Howell, clapping her hands together and looking around cheerfully. "That seems to clear that up! Stevanie, I'll take this back, shall I?" She folded the map and tucked it inside her robes. "Harriet, Ronnie, come with me, I need a word about my vampire essay — excuse us, Stevanie –"</p><p>Harriet didn't dare look at Prince as they left her office. She, Ron, and Howell walked all the way back into the entrance hall before speaking. Then Harriet turned to Howell.</p><p>"Professor, I –"</p><p>"I don't want to hear explanations," said Howell shortly. She glanced around the empty entrance hall and lowered her voice. "I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mrs. Filch many years ago. Yes, I know it's a map," she said as Harriet and Ronnie looked amazed. "I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, astounded that you didn't hand it in. Particularly after what happened the last time a student left information about the castle lying around. And I can't let you have it back, Harriet."</p><p>Harriet had expected that, and was too keen for explanations to protest.</p><p>"Why did Prince think I'd got it from the manufacturers?"</p><p>"Because…" Howell hesitated, "because these mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of school. They'd think it extremely entertaining."</p><p>"Do you know them?" said Harriet, impressed.</p><p>"We've met," she said shortly. She was looking at Harriet more seriously than ever before.<br/>"Don't expect me to cover up for you again, Harriet. I cannot make you take Siri Black seriously. But I would have thought that what you have heard when the Dementors draw near you would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Harriet. A poor way to repay them — gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks."</p><p>She walked away, leaving Harriet feeling worse by far than she had at any point in Prince’s office. Slowly, she and Ronnie mounted the marble staircase. As Harriet passed the one-eyed witch, she remembered the Invisibility Cloak — it was still down there, but she didn't dare go and get it.</p><p>"It's my fault," said Ronnie abruptly. "I persuaded you to go. Howell’s right, it was stupid, we shouldn't've done it –"</p><p>She broke off; they reached the corridor where the security trolls were pacing, and Hermes was walking toward them. One look at his face convinced Harriet that he had heard what had happened. Her heart plummeted — had he told Professor McGonagall?</p><p>"Come to have a good gloat?" said Ronnie savagely as he stopped in front of them. "Or have you just been to tell on us?"</p><p>"No," said Hermes. He was holding a letter in his hands and his lip was trembling. "I just thought you ought to know…Hagrid lost her case. Buckbeak is going to be executed."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The Quidditch Final</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“She — she sent me this,” Hermes said, holding out the letter.</p><p>Harriet took it. The parchment was damp, and enormous tear- drops had smudged the ink so badly in places that it was very diffi- cult to read.</p><p>“Dear Hermes,</p><p>We lost. I’m allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. Execution date to be fixed.</p><p>Beaky has enjoyed London.</p><p>I won’t forget all the help you gave us.</p><p>Hagrid”</p><p>“They can’t do this,” said Harriet. “They can’t. Buckbeak isn’t dangerous.”</p><p>“Black’s mum’s frightened the Committee into it,” said Hermes, wiping his eyes. “You know what she’s like. They’re a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There’ll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can’t see any hope. . . . Nothing will have changed.”</p><p>“Yeah, it will,” said Ronnie fiercely. “You won’t have to do all the work alone this time, Hermes. I’ll help.”</p><p>“Oh, Ronnie!”</p><p>Hermes flung his arms around Ronnie’s neck and broke down completely. Ronnie, looking quite terrified, patted him very awkwardly on the top of the head. Finally, Hermes drew away.</p><p>“Ronnie, I’m really, really sorry about Scabbers . . . ,” he sobbed.</p><p>“Oh — well — he was old,” said Ronnie, looking thoroughly relieved that he had let go of her. “And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now.”</p><p>The safety measures imposed on the students since Siri Black’s second break-in made it impossible for Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes to go and visit Hagrid in the evenings. Their only chance of talking to her was during Care of Magical Creatures lessons.</p><p>She seemed numb with shock at the verdict.</p><p>“S’all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin’ there in black robes an’ I kep’ droppin’ me notes and forgettin’ all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermes. An’ then Luanna Black stood up an’ said her bit, and the Committee jus’ did exac’ly what she told ’em. . . .”</p><p>“There’s still the appeal!” said Ronnie fiercely. “Don’t give up yet, we’re working on it!”</p><p>They were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead they could see Black, who was walking with Crabbe and Goyle, and kept looking back, laughing derisively.</p><p>“S’no good, Ronnie,” said Hagrid sadly as they reached the castle steps. “That Committee’s in Luanna Black’s pocket. I’m jus’ gonna make sure the rest o’ Beaky’s time is the happiest he’s ever had. I owe him that. . . .”</p><p>Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward her cabin, her face buried in her handkerchief.</p><p>“Look at her blubber!”</p><p>Black, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.</p><p>“Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?” said Black. “And she’s supposed to be our teacher!”</p><p>Harriet and Ronnie both made furious moves toward Black, but Hermes got there first — SMACK!</p><p>He had slapped Black across the face with all the strength he could muster. Black staggered. Harriet, Ronnie, Crabbe, and Goyle stood flabbergasted as Hermes raised his hand again.</p><p>“Don’t you dare call Hagrid pathetic, you foul — you evil —”</p><p>“Hermes!” said Ronnie weakly, and she tried to grab his hand as he swung it back.</p><p>“Get off, Ronnie!”</p><p>Hermes pulled out his wand. Black stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at her for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.</p><p>“C’mon,” Black muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.</p><p>“Hermes!” Ronnie said again, sounding both stunned and impressed.</p><p>“Harriet, you’d better beat her in the Quidditch final!” Hermes said shrilly. “You just better had, because I can’t stand it if Slytherin wins!”</p><p>“We’re due in Charms,” said Ronnie, still goggling at Hermes. “We’d better go.”</p><p>They hurried up the marble staircase toward Professor Flitwick’s classroom.</p><p>“You’re late, girls!” said Professor Flitwick reprovingly as Harriet opened the classroom door. “Come along, quickly, wands out, we’re experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we’ve already divided into pairs —”</p><p>Harriet and Ronnie hurried to a desk at the back and opened their bags. Ronnie looked behind her.</p><p>“Where’s Hermes gone?”</p><p>Harriet looked around too. Hermes hadn’t entered the class- room, yet Harry knew he had been right next to her when she had opened the door.</p><p>“That’s weird,” said Harriet, staring at Ronnie. “Maybe — maybe he went to the bathroom or something?”</p><p>But Hermes didn’t turn up all lesson.</p><p>“He could’ve done with a Cheering Charm on him too,” said Ronnie as the class left for lunch, all grinning broadly — the Cheering Charms had left them with a feeling of great contentment.</p><p>Hermes wasn’t at lunch either. By the time they had finished their apple pie, the after-effects of the Cheering Charms were wearing off, and Harriet and Ronnie had started to get slightly worried.</p><p>“You don’t think Black did something to him?” Ronnie said anxiously as they hurried upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower.</p><p>They passed the security trolls, gave the Fat Lady the password (“Flibbertigibbet”), and scrambled through the portrait hole into the common room.</p><p>Hermes was sitting at a table, fast asleep, his head resting on an open Arithmancy book. They went to sit down on either side of him. Harriet prodded him awake.</p><p>“Wh — what?” said Hermes, waking with a start and staring wildly around. “Is it time to go? W — which lesson have we got now?</p><p>“Divination, but it’s not for another twenty minutes,” said Harriet. “Hermes, why didn’t you come to Charms?”</p><p>“What? Oh no!” Hermes squeaked. “I forgot to go to Charms!”</p><p>“But how could you forget?” said Harriet. “You were with us till we were right outside the classroom!”</p><p>“I don’t believe it!” Hermes wailed. “Was Professor Flitwick angry? Oh, it was Black, I was thinking about her and I lost track of things!”</p><p>“You know what, Hermes?” said Ronnie, looking down at the enormous Arithmancy book Hermes had been using as a pillow. “I reckon you’re cracking up. You’re trying to do too much.”</p><p>“No, I’m not!” said Hermes, brushing his hair out of his eyes and staring hopelessly around for his bag. “I just made a mistake, that’s all! I’d better go and see Professor Flitwick and say sorry. . . . I’ll see you in Divination!”</p><p>Hermes joined them at the foot of the ladder to Professor Trelawney’s classroom twenty minutes later, looking extremely harassed.</p><p>“I can’t believe I missed Cheering Charms! And I bet they come up in our exams; Professor Flitwick hinted they might!”</p><p>Together they climbed the ladder into the dim, stifling tower room. Glowing on every little table was a crystal ball full of pearly white mist. Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes sat down together at the same rickety table.</p><p>“I thought we weren’t starting crystal balls until next term,” Ronnie muttered, casting a wary eye around for Professor Trelawney, in case he was lurking nearby.</p><p>“Don’t complain, this means we’ve finished palmistry,” Harriet muttered back. “I was getting sick of him flinching every time he looked at my hands.”</p><p>“Good day to you!” said the familiar, misty voice, and Professor Trelawney made his usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows. Paavan and Leroy quivered with excitement, their faces lit by the milky glow of their crystal ball.<br/>“I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned,” said Professor Trelawney, sitting with his back to the fire and gazing around. “The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice.”</p><p>Hermes snorted.</p><p>“Well, honestly . . . ‘the fates have informed her’ . . . who sets the exam? He does! What an amazing prediction!” he said, not troubling to keep his voice low. Harriet and Ronnie choked back laughs.</p><p>It was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard them, as his face was hidden in shadow. He continued, however, as though he had not.</p><p>“Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art,” he said dreamily. “I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb’s infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes” — Ronnie began to snigger uncontrollably and had to stuff her fist in her mouth to stifle the noise — “so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class.”</p><p>And so they began. Harriet, at least, felt extremely foolish, staring blankly at the crystal ball, trying to keep her mind empty when thoughts such as “this is stupid” kept drifting across it. It didn’t help that Ronnie kept breaking into silent giggles and Hermes kept tutting.</p><p>“Seen anything yet?” Harriet asked them after a quarter of an hour’s quiet crystal gazing.</p><p>“Yeah, there’s a burn on this table,” said Ronnie, pointing. “Someone’s spilled their candle.”</p><p>“This is such a waste of time,” Hermes hissed. “I could be practicing something useful. I could be catching up on Cheering Charms —”</p><p>Professor Trelawney rustled past.</p><p>“Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?” he murmured over the clinking of his bangles.</p><p>“I don’t need help,” Ronnie whispered. “It’s obvious what this means. There’s going to be loads of fog tonight.”</p><p>Both Harriet and Hermes burst out laughing.</p><p>“Now, really!” said Professor Trelawney as everyone’s heads turned in their direction. Paavan and Leroy were looking scandalized. “You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!” He approached their table and peered into their crystal ball. Harriet felt her heart sinking. She was sure she knew what was coming —</p><p>“There is something here!” Professor Trelawney whispered, lowering his face to the ball, so that it was reflected twice in his huge glasses. “Something moving . . . but what is it?”</p><p>Harriet was prepared to bet everything she owned, including her Firebolt, that it wasn’t good news, whatever it was. And sure enough —</p><p>“My dear . . . ,” Professor Trelawney breathed, gazing up at Harriet. “It is here, plainer than ever before . . . my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer . . . the Gr —”</p><p>“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” said Hermes loudly. “Not that ridiculous Grim again!”</p><p>Professor Trelawney raised his enormous eyes to Hermes’ face. Paavan whispered something to Leroy, and they both glared at Hermes too. Professor Trelawney stood up, surveying Hermes with unmistakable anger.</p><p>“I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class, my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don’t remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane.”</p><p>There was a moment’s silence. Then —</p><p>“Fine!” said Hermes suddenly, getting up and cramming Unfogging the Future back into his bag. “Fine!” he repeated, swinging the bag over his shoulder and almost knocking Ronnie off her chair. “I give up! I’m leaving!” And to the whole class’s amazement, Hermes strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight.</p><p>It took a few minutes for the class to settle down again. Professor Trelawney seemed to have forgotten all about the Grim. He turned abruptly from Harriet and Ronnie’s table, breathing rather heavily as he tugged his gauzy cloak more closely to him.</p><p>“Ooooo!” said Leroy suddenly, making everyone start. “Oooooo, Professor Trelawney, I’ve just remembered! You saw him leaving, didn’t you? Didn’t you, Professor? ‘Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!’ You said it ages ago, Professor!”</p><p>Professor Trelawney gave him a dewy smile.<br/>“Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Mr. Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs. . . . The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know. . . .”</p><p>Leroy and Paavan looked deeply impressed, and moved over so that Professor Trelawney could join their table instead.</p><p>“Some day Hermes is having, eh?” Ronnie muttered to Harriet, looking awed.</p><p>“Yeah . . .”</p><p>Harriet glanced into the crystal ball but saw nothing but swirling white mist. Had Professor Trelawney really seen the Grim again? Would she? The last thing she needed was another near-fatal accident, with the Quidditch final drawing ever nearer.</p><p>The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. The third years had never had so much homework. Netta Fortesque seemed close to a nervous collapse, and she wasn’t the only one.</p><p>“Call this a holiday!” Sinead Finnigan roared at the common room one afternoon. “The exams are ages away, what’re they playing at?”</p><p>But nobody had as much to do as Hermes. Even without Divination, he was taking more subjects than anybody else. He was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library the next morning; he had shadows like Howell’s under his eyes, and seemed constantly close to tears.</p><p>Ronnie had taken over responsibility for Buckbeak’s appeal. When she wasn’t doing her own work, she was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology and Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. She was so absorbed, she even forgot to be horrible to Crookshanks.</p><p>Harriet, meanwhile, had to fit in her homework around Quidditch practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Wood. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Easter holidays. Slytherin was leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Wood constantly reminded her team) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning fell largely on Harriet, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.</p><p>“So you must catch it only if we’re more than fifty points up,” Wood told Harriet constantly. “Only if we’re more than fifty points up, Harriet, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You’ve got that, haven’t you? You must catch the Snitch only if we’re —”</p><p>“I KNOW, OLIVIA!” Harriet yelled.</p><p>The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn’t won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Prewett (Ronnie’s second oldest sister) had been Seeker. But Harriet doubted whether any of them, even Wood, wanted to win as much as she did. The enmity between Harriet and Black was at its highest point ever. Black was still smarting about the mud-throwing incident in Hogsmeade and was even more furious that Harriet had somehow wormed her way out of punishment. Harriet hadn’t forgotten Black’s attempt to sabotage her in the match against Ravenclaw, but it was the matter of Buckbeak that made her most determined to beat Black in front of the entire school.</p><p>Never, in anyone’s memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.</p><p>Harriet was having a particularly bad time of it. She couldn’t walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip her up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever she went, and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw her surrounded by people. Wood had given instructions that Harriet should be accompanied everywhere she went, in case the Slytherins tried to put her out of action. The whole of Gryffindor House took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Harriet to get to classes on time because she was surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd. Harriet was more concerned for her Firebolt’s safety than her own. When she wasn’t flying it, she locked it securely in her trunk and frequently dashed back up to Gryffindor Tower at break times to check that it was still there.</p><p>All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Hermes had put down his books.</p><p>“I can’t work, I can’t concentrate,” he said nervously.</p><p>There was a great deal of noise. Frankie and Georgina Prewett were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Olivia Wood was crouched over a model of a Quidditch field in the corner, prodding little figures across it with her wand and muttering to herself. Anthony, Alec, and Cato were laughing at Frankie’s and Georgina’s jokes. Harriet was sitting with Ronnie and Hermes, removed from the center of things, trying not to think about the next day, because every time she did, she had the horrible sensation that something very large was fighting to get out of her stomach.</p><p>“You’re going to be fine,” Hermes told her, though he looked positively terrified.</p><p>“You’ve got a Firebolt!” said Ronnie.</p><p>“Yeah . . . ,” said Harriet, her stomach writhing.<br/>It came as a relief when Wood suddenly stood up and yelled, “Team! Bed!”</p><p>Harriet slept badly. First she dreamed that she had overslept, and that Wood was yelling, “Where were you? We had to use Netta instead!” Then she dreamed that Black and the rest of the Slytherin team arrived for the match riding dragons. She was flying at breakneck speed, trying to avoid a spurt of flames from Black’s steed’s mouth, when she realized she had forgotten her Firebolt. She fell through the air and woke with a start.</p><p>It was a few seconds before Harriet remembered that the match hadn’t taken place yet, that she was safe in bed, and that the Slytherin team definitely wouldn’t be allowed to play on dragons. She was feeling very thirsty. Quietly as she could, she got out of her four-poster and went to pour herself some water from the silver jug beneath the window.</p><p>The grounds were still and quiet. No breath of wind disturbed the treetops in the Forbidden Forest; the Whomping Willow was motionless and innocent-looking. It looked as though the conditions for the match would be perfect.</p><p>Harriet set down her goblet and was about to turn back to her bed when something caught her eye. An animal of some kind was prowling across the silvery lawn.</p><p>Harriet dashed to her bedside table, snatched up her glasses, and put them on, then hurried back to the window. It couldn’t be the Grim — not now — not right before the match —</p><p>She peered out at the grounds again and, after a minute’s frantic searching, spotted it. It was skirting the edge of the forest now. . . . It wasn’t the Grim at all . . . it was a cat. . . . Harriet clutched the window ledge in relief as she recognized the bottlebrush tail. It was only Crookshanks. . . .</p><p>Or was it only Crookshanks? Harriet squinted, pressing her nose flat against the glass. Crookshanks seemed to have come to a halt. Harriet was sure she could see something else moving in the shadow of the trees too.</p><p>And just then, it emerged — a gigantic, shaggy black dog, moving stealthily across the lawn, Crookshanks trotting at its side. Harriet stared. What did this mean? If Crookshanks could see the dog as well, how could it be an omen of Harriet’s death?</p><p>“Ronnie!” Harriet hissed. “Ronnie! Wake up!”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“I need you to tell me if you can see something!”</p><p>“S’all dark, Harriet,” Ronnie muttered thickly. “What’re you on about?”</p><p>“Down here —”</p><p>Harriet looked quickly back out of the window.<br/>Crookshanks and the dog had vanished. Harriet climbed onto the windowsill to look right down into the shadows of the castle, but they weren’t there. Where had they gone?</p><p>A loud snore told her Ronnie had fallen asleep again.</p><p>Harriet and the rest of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall the next day to enormous applause. Harriet couldn’t help grinning broadly as she saw that both the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were applauding them too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. Harriet noticed that Black looked even paler than usual.</p><p>Wood spent the whole of breakfast urging her team to eat, while touching nothing herself. Then she hurried them off to the field before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions. As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.</p><p>“Good luck, Harriet!” called Chen. Harriet felt herself blushing. “Okay — no wind to speak of — sun’s a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it — ground’s fairly hard, good, that’ll give us a fast kickoff —”</p><p>Wood paced the field, staring around with the team behind her. Finally, they saw the front doors of the castle open in the distance and the rest of the school spilling onto the lawn.</p><p>“Locker rooms,” said Wood tersely.</p><p>None of them spoke as they changed into their scarlet robes. Harriet wondered if they were feeling like she was: as though she’d eaten something extremely wriggly for breakfast. In what seemed like no time at all, Wood was saying, “Okay, it’s time, let’s go —”</p><p>They walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. Three quarters of the crowd was wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like “GO GRYFFINDOR!” and “LIONS FOR THE CUP!” Behind the Slytherin goal posts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Prince sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.</p><p>“And here are the Gryffindors!” yelled Leah Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. “Evans, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Prewett, Prewett, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years —”</p><p>Leah’s comments were drowned by a tide of “boos” from the Slytherin end.</p><p>“And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. She’s made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill —”</p><p>More boos from the Slytherin crowd. Harriet, however, thought Leah had a point. Black was easily the smallest person on the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.</p><p>“Captains, shake hands!” said Master Hooch.</p><p>Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other’s hand very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other’s fingers.</p><p>“Mount your brooms!” said Master Hooch. “Three . . . two . . . one . . .”</p><p>The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air. Harriet felt her hair fly back off her forehead; her nerves left her in the thrill of the flight; she glanced around, saw Black on her tail, and sped off in search of the Snitch.</p><p>“And it’s Gryffindor in possession, Alec Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alec! Argh, no — Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field — WHAM! — nice Bludger work there by Georgina Prewett, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it’s caught by — Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Anthony — nice swerve around Montague — duck, Anthony, that’s a Bludger! — HE SCORES! TEN–ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”</p><p>Anthony punched the air as he soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight —</p><p>“OUCH!”</p><p>Anthony was nearly thrown from his broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into him.</p><p>“Sorry!” said Flint as the crowd below booed. “Sorry, didn’t see him!”</p><p>A moment later, Frankie Prewett chucked her Beater’s club at the back of Flint’s head. Flint’s nose smashed into the handle of her broom and began to bleed.</p><p>“That will do!” shrieked Master Hooch, zooming between them. “Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!”</p><p>“Come off it, Sir!” howled Frankie, but Master Hooch blew his whistle and Alec flew forward to take the penalty.</p><p>“Come on, Alec!” yelled Leah into the silence that had descended on the crowd. “YES! HE’S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY–ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”</p><p>Harriet turned the Firebolt sharply to watch Flint, still bleeding freely, fly forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, her jaw clenched.</p><p>“ ’Course, Wood’s a superb Keeper!” Leah Jordan told the crowd as Flint waited for Master Hooch’s whistle. “Superb! Very difficult to pass — very difficult indeed — YES! I DON’T BELIEVE IT! SHE’S SAVED IT!”</p><p>Relieved, Harriet zoomed away, gazing around for the Snitch, but still making sure she caught every word of Leah’s commentary. It was essential that she hold Black off the Snitch until Gryffindor was more than fifty points up —</p><p>“Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession — no! — Gryffindor back in possession and it’s Cato Bell, Cato Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, he’s streaking up the field — THAT WAS DELIBERATE!”</p><p>Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Cato, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed his head. Cato cart- wheeled in the air, managed to stay on his broom, but dropped the Quaffle.</p><p>Master Hooch’s whistle rang out again as he soared over to Montague and began shouting at her. A minute later, Cato had put another penalty past the Slytherin Seeker.</p><p>“THIRTY–ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —”</p><p>“Jordan, if you can’t commentate in an unbiased way — !”</p><p>“I’m telling it like it is, Professor!”</p><p>Harriet felt a huge jolt of excitement. She had seen the Snitch — it was shimmering at the foot of one of the Gryffindor goal posts — but she mustn’t catch it yet — and if Black saw it —</p><p>Faking a look of sudden concentration, Harriet pulled her Firebolt around and sped off toward the Slytherin end — it worked. Black went haring after her, clearly thinking Harriet had seen the Snitch there. . . .</p><p>WHOOSH.</p><p>One of the Bludgers came streaking past Harriet’s right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again —</p><p>WHOOSH.</p><p>The second Bludger grazed Harriet’s elbow. The other Beater, Bole, was closing in.</p><p>Harriet had a fleeting glimpse of Bole and Derrick zooming toward her, clubs raised —</p><p>She turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch.</p><p>“Ha haaa!” yelled Leah Jordan as the Slytherin Beaters lurched away from each other, clutching their heads. “Too bad, girls! You’ll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it’s Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle — Flint alongside him — poke her in the eye, Anthony! — it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke — oh no — Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save — !”</p><p>But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Leah swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from her.</p><p>“Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won’t happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession —”</p><p>It was turning into the dirtiest game Harriet had ever played in. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alec with her club and tried to say she’d thought he was a Bludger. Georgina Prewett elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Master Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.</p><p>The Snitch had disappeared again. Black was still keeping close to Harriet as she soared over the match, looking around for it — once Gryffindor was fifty points ahead —</p><p>Katie scored. Fifty-ten. Frankie and Georgina Prewett were swooping around him, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Frankie’s and Georgina’s absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught her in the stomach, one after the other, and she rolled over in the air, clutching her broom, completely winded.</p><p>Master Hooch was beside himself.<br/>“YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!” he shrieked at Bole and Derrick. “Gryffindor penalty!”</p><p>And Anthony scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Frankie Prewett pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of her hands; Alec seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal — seventy-ten.</p><p>The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse — Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harriet caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. Harriet could almost feel hundreds of eyes following her as she soared around the field, high above the rest of the game, with Black speeding along behind her.<br/>And then she saw it. The Snitch was sparkling twenty feet above her.</p><p>Harriet put on a huge burst of speed; the wind was roaring in her ears; she stretched out her hand, but suddenly, the Firebolt was slowing down.</p><p>Horrified, she looked around. Black had thrown herself forward, grabbed hold of the Firebolt’s tail, and was pulling it back.</p><p>“You —“</p><p>Harriet was angry enough to hit Black, but couldn’t reach — Black was panting with the effort of holding onto the Firebolt, but her eyes were sparkling maliciously. She had achieved what she’d wanted to do — the Snitch had disappeared again.</p><p>“Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I’ve never seen such tactics!” Master Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Black was sliding back onto her Nimbus Two Thousand and One.</p><p>“YOU CHEATING SCUM!” Leah Jordan was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall’s reach. “YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B —”</p><p>Professor McGonagall didn’t even bother to tell her off. He was actually shaking his finger in Black’s direction, his hat had fallen off, and he too was shouting furiously.</p><p>Alec took Gryffindor’s penalty, but he was so angry he missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Black’s foul on Harriet, were being spurred on to greater heights.</p><p>“Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal — Montague scores —” Leah groaned. “Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor. . . .”</p><p>Harriet was now marking Black so closely their knees kept hitting each other. Harriet wasn’t going to let Black anywhere near the Snitch. . . .</p><p>“Get out of it, Evans!” Black yelled in frustration as she tried to turn and found Harriet blocking her.</p><p>“Anthony gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Anthony, COME ON!”</p><p>Harriet looked around. Every single Slytherin player apart from Black was streaking up the pitch toward Anthony, including the Slytherin Keeper — they were all going to block him —</p><p>Harriet wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low she was lying flat along the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, she shot toward the Slytherins.</p><p>“AAAAAAARRRGH!”</p><p>They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; Anthony’s way was clear. </p><p>“HE SCORES! HE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty points to twenty!”</p><p>Harriet, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field.</p><p>And then she saw something to make her heart stand still. Black was diving, a look of triumph on her face — there, a few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer —</p><p>Harriet urged the Firebolt downward, but Black was miles ahead —</p><p>“Go! Go! Go!” Harriet urged her broom. She was gaining on Black — Harriet flattened herself to the broom handle as Bole sent a Bludger at her — she was at Black’s ankles — she was level —</p><p>Harriet threw herself forward, took both hands off her broom. She knocked Black’s arm out of the way and —</p><p>“YES!”</p><p>She pulled out of her dive, her hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Harriet soared above the crowd, an odd ringing in her ears. The tiny golden ball was held tight in her fist, beating its wings hopelessly against her fingers.</p><p>Then Wood was speeding toward her, half-blinded by tears; she seized Harriet around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into her shoulder. Harriet felt two large thumps as Frankie and Georgina hit them; then Anthony’s, Alec’s, and Cato’s voices, “We’ve won the Cup! We’ve won the Cup!” Tangled together in a many-armed hug, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.</p><p>Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto the field. Hands were raining down on their backs. Harriet had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing in on her. Then she, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Thrust into the light, she saw Hagrid, plastered with crimson rosettes — “Yeh beat ’em, Harriet, yeh beat ’em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!” There was Penelope, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Wood, wiping his eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way toward Harriet, were Ronnie and Hermes. Words failed them. They simply beamed as Harriet was borne toward the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.</p><p>If only there had been a dementor around. . . . As a sobbing Wood passed Harriet the Cup, as she lifted it into the air, Harriet felt she could have produced the world’s best Patronus.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Professor Trelawney’s Prediction</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harriet’s euphoria at finally winning the Quidditch Cup lasted at least a week. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling onto the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake.</p><p>But they couldn’t. Exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully their brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows. Even Frankie and Georgina Prewett had been spotted working; they were about to take their O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Penelope was getting ready to take her N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offered. As Penelope hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, she needed top grades. She was becoming increasingly edgy, and gave very severe punishments to anybody who disturbed the quiet of the common room in the evenings. In fact, the only person who seemed more anxious than Penelope was Hermes.</p><p>Harriet and Ronnie had given up asking him how he was managing to attend several classes at once, but they couldn’t restrain themselves when they saw the exam schedule he had drawn up for himself. The first column read:</p><p>Monday<br/>9 o’clock, Arithmancy<br/>9 o’clock, Transfiguration <br/>Lunch<br/>1 o’clock, Charms<br/>1 o’clock, Ancient Runes</p><p>“Hermes?” Ronnie said cautiously, because he was liable to explode when interrupted these days. “Er — are you sure you’ve copied down these times right?”</p><p>“What?” snapped Hermes, picking up the exam schedule and examining it. “Yes, of course I have.”</p><p>“Is there any point asking how you’re going to sit for two exams at once?” said Harriet.</p><p>“No,” said Hermes shortly. “Have either of you seen my copy of Numerology and Gramatica?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading,” said Ronnie, but very quietly. Hermes started shifting heaps of parchment around on his table, looking for the book. Just then, there was a rustle at the window and Hedwig fluttered through it, a note clutched tight in her beak.</p><p>“It’s from Hagrid,” said Harriet, ripping the note open. “Buck- beak’s appeal — it’s set for the sixth.”</p><p>“That’s the day we finish our exams,” said Hermes, still looking everywhere for his Arithmancy book.</p><p>“And they’re coming up here to do it,” said Harriet, still reading from the letter. “Someone from the Ministry of Magic and — and an executioner.”</p><p>Hermes looked up, startled. “They’re bringing the executioner to the appeal! But that sounds as though they’ve already decided!”</p><p>“Yeah, it does,” said Harriet slowly.</p><p>“They can’t!” Ronnie howled. “I’ve spent ages reading up on stuff for her; they can’t just ignore it all!”</p><p>But Harriet had a horrible feeling that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures had had its mind made up for it by Mrs Black. Dahlia, who had been noticeably subdued since Gryffindor’s triumph in the Quidditch final, seemed to regain some of her old swagger over the next few days. From sneering comments Harriet overheard, Black was certain Buckbeak was going to be killed, and seemed thoroughly pleased with herself for bringing it about. It was all Harriet could do to stop herself imitating Hermes and hitting Black in the face on these occasions. And the worst thing of all was that they had no time or opportu- nity to go and see Hagrid, because the strict new security measures had not been lifted, and Harriet didn’t dare retrieve her Invisibility Cloak from below the one-eyed witch. </p><p>Exam week began and an unnatural hush fell over the castle. The third years emerged from Transfiguration at lunchtime on Monday, limp and ashen-faced, comparing results and bemoaning the difficulty of the tasks they had been set, which had included turning a teapot into a tortoise. Hermes irritated the rest by fussing about how his tortoise had looked more like a turtle, which was the least of everyone else’s worries.</p><p>“Mine still had a spout for a tail, what a nightmare...”</p><p>“Were the tortoises supposed to breathe steam?”</p><p>“It still had a willow-patterned shell, d’you think that’ll count against me?”</p><p>Then, after a hasty lunch, it was straight back upstairs for the Charms exam. Hermes had been right; Professor Flitwick did indeed test them on Cheering Charms. Harriet slightly overdid hers out of nerves and Ronnie, who was partnering her, ended up in fits of hysterical laughter and had to be led away to a quiet room for an hour before she was ready to perform the charm herself. After dinner, the students hurried back to their common rooms, not to relax, but to start studying for Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, and Astronomy.</p><p>Hagrid presided over the Care of Magical Creatures exam the following morning with a very preoccupied air indeed; her heart didn’t seem to be in it at all. She had provided a large tub of fresh flobberworms for the class, and told them that to pass the test, their flobberworm had to still be alive at the end of one hour. As flobberworms flourished best if left to their own devices, it was the easiest exam any of them had ever taken, and also gave Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes plenty of opportunity to speak to Hagrid.</p><p>“Beaky’s gettin’ a bit depressed,” Hagrid told them, bending low on the pretense of checking that Harriet’s flobberworm was still alive. “Bin cooped up too long. But still... we’ll know day after tomorrow — one way or the other —”</p><p>They had Potions that afternoon, which was an unqualified disaster. Try as Harriet might, she couldn’t get her Confusing Concoc to thicken, and Prince, standing watch with an air of vindictive pleasure, scribbled something that looked suspiciously like a zero onto her notes before moving away.</p><p>Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which Harriet scribbled everything Florean Fortescue had ever told her about medieval witch-hunts, while wishing she could have had one of Fortescue’s choco-nut sundaes with her in the stifling classroom. Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking-hot sun; then back to the common room once more, with sunburnt necks, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would all be over.</p><p>Their second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Howell had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new boggart.</p><p>“Excellent, Harriet,” Howell muttered as Harriet climbed out of the trunk, grinning. “Full marks.”</p><p>Flushed with her success, Harriet hung around to watch Ronnie and Hermes. Ronnie did very well until she reached the hinkypunk, which successfully confused her into sinking waist-high into the quagmire. Hermes did everything perfectly until he reached the trunk with the boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, he burst out again, screaming.</p><p>“Hermes!” said Howell, startled. “What’s the matter?”</p><p>“P — P — Professor McGonagall!” Hermes gasped, pointing into the trunk. “H — he said I’d failed everything!”</p><p>It took a little while to calm Hermes down. When at last he had regained a grip on himself, he, Harriet, and Ronnie went back to the castle. Ronnie was still slightly inclined to laugh at Hermes’ boggart, but an argument was averted by the sight that met them on the top of the steps.</p><p>Cornetta Fudge, sweating slightly in her pinstriped cloak, was standing there staring out at the grounds. She started at the sight of Harriet.</p><p>“Hello there, Harriet!” She said. “Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?”</p><p>“Yes,” said Harriet. Hermes and Ronnie, not being on speaking terms with the Minister of Magic, hovered awkwardly in the background.</p><p>“Lovely day,” said Fudge, casting an eye over the lake. “Pity... pity...”</p><p>She sighed deeply and looked down at Harriet. “I’m here on an unpleasant mission, Harriet. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad hippogriff. As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step in.”</p><p>“Does that mean the appeal’s already happened?” Ronnie interrupted, stepping forward.</p><p>“No, no, it’s scheduled for this afternoon,” said Fudge, looking curiously at Ronnie.</p><p>“Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!” said Ronnie stoutly. “The hippogriff might get off!”</p><p>Before Fudge could answer, two witches came through the castle doors behind her. One was so ancient she appeared to be withering before their very eyes; the other was tall and strapping, with thin black eyebrows. Harriet gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, because the very old wizard squinted toward Hagrid’s cabin and said in a feeble voice, “Dear, dear, I’m getting too old for this... Two o’clock, isn’t it, Fudge?”</p><p>The black-eyebrowed woman was fingering something in her belt; Harriet looked and saw that she was running one broad thumb along the blade of a shining axe. Ronnie opened her mouth to say something, but Hermes nudged her hard in the ribs and jerked his head toward the entrance hall.</p><p>“Why’d you stop me?” said Ronnie angrily as they entered the Great Hall for lunch. “Did you see them? They’ve even got the axe ready! This isn’t justice!”</p><p>“Ronnie, your mum works for the Ministry, you can’t go saying things like that to her boss!” said Hermes, but he too looked very upset. “As long as Hagrid keeps her head this time, and argues her case properly, they can’t possibly execute Buckbeak...”</p><p>But Harriet could tell Hermes didn’t really believe what he was saying. All around them, people were talking excitedly as they ate their lunch, happily anticipating the end of the exams that afternoon, but Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes, lost in worry about Hagrid and Buckbeak, didn’t join in.</p><p>Harriet and Ronnie’s last exam was Divination; Hermes’, Muggle Studies. They walked up the marble staircase together; Hermes left them on the first floor and Harriet and Ronnie proceeded all the way up to the seventh, where many of their class were sitting on the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney’s classroom, trying to cram in a bit of last-minute studying.</p><p>“He’s seeing us all separately,” Netta informed them as they went to sit down next to her. She had her copy of Unfogging the Future open on her lap at the pages devoted to crystal gazing. “Have either of you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?” she asked them unhappily.</p><p>“Nope,” said Ronnie in an offhand voice. She kept checking her watch; Harriet knew that she was counting down the time until Buckbeak’s appeal started.</p><p>The line of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, “What did he ask? Was it okay?”</p><p>But they all refused to say.</p><p>“He says the crystal ball’s told him that if I tell you, I’ll have a horrible accident!” squeaked Netta as she clambered back down the ladder toward Harriet and Ronnie, who had now reached the landing.</p><p>“That’s convenient,” snorted Ronnie. “You know, I’m starting to think Hermes was right about him” — she jabbed her thumb toward the trapdoor overhead — “he’s a right old fraud.”</p><p>“Yeah,” said Harriet, looking at her own watch. It was now two o’clock. “Wish he’d hurry up...”</p><p>Paavan came back down the ladder glowing with pride.</p><p>“He says I’ve got all the makings of a true Seer,” he informed Harriet and Ronnie. “I saw loads of stuff... Well, good luck!”</p><p>He hurried off down the spiral staircase toward Leroy.</p><p>“Ronnie Prewett,” said the familiar, misty voice from over their heads. Ronnie grimaced at Harriet and climbed the silver ladder out of sight. Harriet was now the only person left to be tested. She settled herself on the floor with her back against the wall, listening to a fly buzzing in the sunny window, her mind across the grounds with Hagrid.</p><p>Finally, after about twenty minutes, Ronnie’s large feet reappeared on the ladder.</p><p>“How’d it go?” Harriet asked her, standing up.</p><p>“Rubbish,” said Ronnie. “Couldn’t see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don’t think he was convinced, though...”</p><p>“Meet you in the common room,” Harriet muttered as Professor Trelawney’s voice called, “Harriet Evans!”</p><p>The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made Harriet cough as she stumbled through the clutter of chairs and tables to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for her before a large crystal ball.</p><p>“Good day, my dear,” he said softly. “If you would kindly gaze into the Orb... Take your time, now... then tell me what you see within it...”</p><p>Harriet bent over the crystal ball and stared, stared as hard as she could, willing it to show her something other than swirling white fog, but nothing happened.</p><p>“Well?” Professor Trelawney prompted delicately. “What do you see?”</p><p>The heat was overpowering and her nostrils were stinging with the perfumed smoke wafting from the fire beside them. She thought of what Ronnie had just said, and decided to pretend.</p><p>“Er —” said Harriet, “a dark shape... um...”</p><p>“What does it resemble?” whispered Professor Trelawney. “Think, now...”</p><p>Harriet cast her mind around and it landed on Buckbeak.</p><p>“A hippogriff,” she said firmly.</p><p>“Indeed!” whispered Professor Trelawney, scribbling keenly on the parchment perched upon his knees. “My girl, you may well be seeing the outcome of poor Hagrid’s trouble with the Ministry of Magic! Look closer... Does the hippogriff appear to... have its head?”</p><p>“Yes,” said Harriet firmly.</p><p>“Are you sure?” Professor Trelawney urged her. “Are you quite sure, dear? You don’t see it writhing on the ground, perhaps, and a shadowy figure raising an axe behind it?”</p><p>“No!” said Harriet, starting to feel slightly sick.</p><p>“No blood? No weeping Hagrid?”</p><p>“No!” said Harriet again, wanting more than ever to leave the room and the heat. “It looks fine, it’s — flying away...”</p><p>Professor Trelawney sighed. “Well, dear, I think we’ll leave it there... A little disappointing... but I’m sure you did your best.”</p><p>Relieved, Harriet got up, picked up her bag and turned to go, but then a loud, harsh voice spoke behind her.</p><p>“It will happen tonight.”</p><p>Harriet wheeled around. Professor Trelawney had gone rigid in his armchair; his eyes were unfocused and his mouth sagging.</p><p>“S — sorry?” said Harriet.</p><p>But Professor Trelawney didn’t seem to hear her. His eyes started to roll. Harriet sat there in a panic. He looked as though he was about to have some sort of seizure. She hesitated, thinking of running to the hospital wing — and then Professor Trelawney spoke again, in the same harsh voice, quite unlike his own:</p><p>“The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight... the servant will break free and set out to rejoin her master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant’s aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was. Tonight... before midnight... the servant... will set out... to rejoin... her master....”</p><p>Professor Trelawney’s head fell forward onto his chest. He made a grunting sort of noise. Harriet sat there, staring at him. Then, quite suddenly, Professor Trelawney’s head snapped up again.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, dear girl,” he said dreamily, “the heat of the day, you know... I drifted off for a moment...”</p><p>Harriet sat there, staring at him.</p><p>“Is there anything wrong, my dear?”</p><p>“You — you just told me that the — the Dark Lord’s going to rise again . . . that his servant’s going to go back to him...” Professor Trelawney looked thoroughly startled.</p><p>“The Dark Lord? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? My dear boy, that’s hardly something to joke about... Rise again, indeed —”</p><p>“But you just said it! You said the Dark Lord —”</p><p>“I think you must have dozed off too, dear!” said Professor Trelawney. “I would certainly not presume to predict anything quite as far-fetched as that!”</p><p>Harriet climbed back down the ladder and the spiral staircase, wondering... had she just heard Professor Trelawney make a real prediction? Or had that been his idea of an impressive end to the test?</p><p>Five minutes later she was dashing past the security trolls outside the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Professor Trelawney’s words still resounding in her head. People were striding past her in the opposite direction, laughing and joking, heading for the grounds and a bit of long-awaited freedom; by the time she had reached the por- trait hole and entered the common room, it was almost deserted. Over in the corner, however, sat Ronnie and Hermes.</p><p>“Professor Trelawney,” Harriet panted, “just told me —“ But she stopped abruptly at the sight of their faces.</p><p>“Buckbeak lost,” said Ronnie weakly. “Hagrid’s just sent this.” Hagrid’s note was dry this time, no tears had splattered it, yet her hand seemed to have shaken so much as she wrote that it was hardly legible.</p><p>“Lost appeal. They’re going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don’t come down. I don’t want you to see it.</p><p>Hagrid”</p><p>“We’ve got to go,” said Harriet at once. “She can’t just sit there on her own, waiting for the executioner!”</p><p>“Sunset, though,” said Ronnie, who was staring out the window in a glazed sort of way. “We’d never be allowed... ’specially you, Harriet...”</p><p>Harriet sank her head into her hands, thinking. “If we only had the Invisibility Cloak...”</p><p>“Where is it?” said Hermes.</p><p>Harriet told him about leaving it in the passageway under the one-eyed witch.</p><p>“... if Prince sees me anywhere near there again, I’m in serious trouble,” she finished.</p><p>“That’s true,” said Hermes, getting to his feet. “If she sees you... How do you open the witch’s hump again?”</p><p>“You — you tap it and say, ‘Dissendium,’ ” said Harriet. “But —” Hermes didn’t wait for the rest of her sentence; he strode across the room, pushed open the Fat Lady’s portrait and vanished from sight.</p><p>“He hasn’t gone to get it?” Ronnie said, staring after him.</p><p>He had. Hermes returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery cloak folded carefully under his robes.</p><p>“Hermes, I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately!” said Ronnie. astounded. “First you hit Black, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney —”</p><p>Hermes looked rather flattered.</p><p>They went down to dinner with everybody else, but did not return to Gryffindor Tower afterward. Harriet had the cloak hidden down the front of her robes; she had to keep her arms folded to hide the lump. They skulked in an empty chamber off the entrance hall, listening, until they were sure it was deserted. They heard a last pair of people hurrying across the hall and a door slamming. Hermes poked his head around the door.</p><p>“Okay,” he whispered, “no one there — cloak on —”</p><p>Walking very close together so that nobody would see them, they crossed the hall on tiptoe beneath the cloak, then walked down the stone front steps into the grounds. The sun was already sinking behind the Forbidden Forest, gilding the top branches of the trees.</p><p>They reached Hagrid’s cabin and knocked. She was a minute in answering, and when she did, she looked all around for her visitor, pale-faced and trembling.</p><p>“It’s us,” Harriet hissed. “We’re wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off.”</p><p>“Yeh shouldn’ve come!” Hagrid whispered, but she stood back, and they stepped inside. Hagrid shut the door quickly and Harriet pulled off the cloak.</p><p>Hagrid was not crying, nor did she throw herself upon their necks. She looked like a woman who did not know where she was or what to do. This helplessness was worse to watch than tears.</p><p>“Wan’ some tea?” she said. Her great hands were shaking as she reached for the kettle.</p><p>“Where’s Buckbeak, Hagrid?” said Hermes hesitantly.</p><p>“I — I took him outside,” said Hagrid, spilling milk all over the table as she filled up the jug. “He’s tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an’ — an’ smell fresh air — before —”</p><p>Hagrid’s hand trembled so violently that the milk jug slipped from her grasp and shattered all over the floor.</p><p>“I’ll do it, Hagrid,” said Hermes quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.</p><p>“There’s another one in the cupboard,” Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping her forehead on her sleeve. Harriet glanced at Ronnie, who looked back hopelessly.</p><p>“Isn’t there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?” Harriet asked fiercely, sitting down next to her. “Dumbledore —”</p><p>“She’s tried,” said Hagrid. “She’s got no power ter overrule the Committee. She told ’em Buckbeak’s all right, but they’re scared... Yeh know what Luanna Black’s like... threatened ’em, I expect... an’ the executioner, Macnair, she’s an old pal o’ Black’s... but it’ll be quick an’ clean... an’ I’ll be beside him...”</p><p>Hagrid swallowed. Her eyes were darting all over the cabin as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort.</p><p>“Dumbledore’s gonna come down while it — while it happens. Wrote me this mornin’. Said she wants ter — ter be with me. Great woman, Dumbledore...”</p><p>Hermes, who had been rummaging in Hagrid’s cupboard for another milk jug, let out a small, quickly stifled sob. He straightened up with the new jug in his hands, fighting back tears.</p><p>“We’ll stay with you too, Hagrid,” he began, but Hagrid shook her shaggy head.</p><p>“Yeh’re ter go back up ter the castle. I told yeh, I don’ wan’ yeh watchin’. An’ yeh shouldn’ be down here anyway... If Fudge an’ Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harriet, yeh’ll be in big trouble.”</p><p>Silent tears were now streaming down Hermes’ face, but he hid them from Hagrid, bustling around making tea. Then, as he picked up the milk bottle to pour some into the jug, he let out a shriek.</p><p>“Ronnie! I — I don’t believe it — it’s Scabbers!”</p><p>Ronnie gaped at him.</p><p>“What are you talking about?”</p><p>Hermes carried the milk jug over to the table and turned it upside down. With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out onto the table.</p><p>“Scabbers!” said Ronnie blankly. “Scabbers, what are you doing here?”</p><p>She grabbed the struggling rat and held him up to the light. Scabbers looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever, large tufts of hair had fallen out leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Ronnie’s hands as though desperate to free himself.</p><p>“It’s okay, Scabbers!” said Ronnie. “No cats! There’s nothing here to hurt you!”</p><p>Hagrid suddenly stood up, her eyes fixed on the window. Her normally ruddy face had gone the color of parchment.</p><p>“They’re comin’...”</p><p>Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes whipped around. A group of women was walking down the distant castle steps. In front was Ariana Dumbledore, her silver beard gleaming in the dying sun. Next to her trotted Cornetta Fudge. Behind them came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Macnair.</p><p>“Yeh gotta go,” said Hagrid. Every inch of her was trembling. “They mustn’ find yeh here... Go now...”</p><p>Ronnie stuffed Scabbers into her pocket and Hermes picked up the cloak.</p><p>“I’ll let yeh out the back way,” said Hagrid.</p><p>They followed her to the door into her back garden. Harriet felt strangely unreal, and even more so when she saw Buckbeak a few yards away, tethered to a tree behind Hagrid’s pumpkin patch. Buckbeak seemed to know something was happening. He turned his sharp head from side to side and pawed the ground nervously.</p><p>“It’s okay, Beaky,” said Hagrid softly. “It’s okay...” She turned to Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes. “Go on,” she said. “Get goin’.”</p><p>But they didn’t move.</p><p>“Hagrid, we can’t —”</p><p>“We’ll tell them what really happened —”</p><p>“They can’t kill him —”</p><p>“Go!” said Hagrid fiercely. “It’s bad enough without you lot in trouble an’ all!”</p><p>They had no choice. As Hermes threw the cloak over Harriet and Ronnie, they heard voices at the front of the cabin. Hagrid looked at the place where they had just vanished from sight.</p><p>“Go quick,” she said hoarsely. “Don’ listen....”</p><p>And she strode back into her cabin as someone knocked at the front door.</p><p>Slowly, in a kind of horrified trance, Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes set off silently around Hagrid’s house. As they reached the other side, the front door closed with a sharp snap.</p><p>“Please, let’s hurry,” Hermes whispered. “I can’t stand it, I can’t bear it...”</p><p>They started up the sloping lawn toward the castle. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged grey, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow.</p><p>Ronnie stopped dead.</p><p>“Oh, please, Ronnie,” Hermes began.</p><p>“It’s Scabbers — he won’t — stay put —”</p><p>Ronnie was bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in her pocket, but the rat was going berserk; squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Ronnie’s hand.</p><p>“Scabbers, it’s me, you idiot, it’s Ronnie,” Ronnie hissed.</p><p>They heard a door open behind them and so men’s voices.</p><p>“Oh, Ronnie, please let’s move, they’re going to do it!” Hermes breathed.</p><p>“Okay — Scabbers, stay put —”</p><p>They walked forward; Harriet, like Hermes, was trying not to listen to the rumble of voices behind them. Ronnie stopped again.</p><p>“I can’t hold him — Scabbers, shut up, everyone’ll hear us —” The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid’s garden. There was a jumble of indistinct female voices, a silence, and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.</p><p>Hermes swayed on the spot.</p><p>“They did it!” he whispered to Harriet. “I d — don’t believe it — they did it!”</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Cat, Rat and Dog</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harriet’s mind had gone blank with shock. The three of them stood transfixed with horror under the Invisibility Cloak. The very last rays of the setting sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed grounds. Then, behind them, they heard a wild howling.</p><p>“Hagrid,” Harriet muttered. Without thinking about what she was doing, she made to turn back, but both Ronnie and Hermes seized her arms.</p><p>“We can’t,” said Ronnie, who was paper-white. “She’ll be in worse trouble if they know we’ve been to see her...”</p><p>Hermes’ breathing was shallow and uneven.</p><p>“How — could — they?” he choked. “How could they?” </p><p>“Come on,” said Ronnie, whose teeth seemed to be chattering. They set off back toward the castle, walking slowly to keep themselves hidden under the cloak. The light was fading fast now.</p><p>By the time they reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around them.</p><p>“Scabbers, keep still,” Ronnie hissed, clamping her hand over her chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ronnie came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into her pocket. “What’s the matter with you, you stupid rat? Stay still — OUCH! He bit me!”</p><p>“Ronnie, be quiet!” Hermes whispered urgently. “Fudge’ll be out here in a minute —”</p><p>“He won’t — stay — put —”</p><p>Scabbers was plainly terrified. He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Ronnie’s grip.</p><p>“What’s the matter with him?”</p><p>But Harriet had just seen — slinking toward them, his body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness — Crookshanks. Whether he could see them or was following the sound of Scabbers’s squeaks, Harriet couldn’t tell.</p><p>“Crookshanks!” Hermes moaned. “No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!”</p><p>But the cat was getting nearer —</p><p>“Scabbers — NO!”</p><p>Too late — the rat had slipped between Ronnie’s clutching fingers, hit the ground, and scampered away. In one bound, Crookshanks sprang after him, and before Harriet or Hermes could stop her, Ronnie had thrown the Invisibility Cloak off herself and pelted away into the darkness.</p><p>“Ronnie!” Hermes moaned.</p><p>He and Harriet looked at each other, then followed at a sprint; it was impossible to run full out under the cloak; they pulled it off and it streamed behind them like a banner as they hurtled after Ronnie; they could hear her feet thundering along ahead and her shouts at Crookshanks.</p><p>“Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —” There was a loud thud.</p><p>“Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —”</p><p>Harriet and Hermes almost fell over Ronnie; they skidded to a stop right in front of her. She was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was back in her pocket; she had both hands held tight over the quivering lump.</p><p>“Ronnie — come on — back under the cloak —” Hermes panted. “Dumbledore — the Minister — they’ll be coming back out in a minute —”</p><p>But before they could cover themselves again, before they could even catch their breath, they heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws... Something was bounding toward them, quiet as a shadow — an enormous, pale-eyed, jet-black dog.</p><p>Harriet reached for her wand, but too late — the dog had made an enormous leap and the front paws hit her on the chest; she keeled over backward in a whirl of hair; she felt its hot breath, saw inch-long teeth —</p><p>But the force of its leap had carried it too far; it rolled off her. Dazed, feeling as though her ribs were broken, Harriet tried to stand up; she could hear it growling as it skidded around for a new attack.</p><p>Ronnie was on her feet. As the dog sprang back toward them she pushed Harriet aside; the dog’s jaws fastened instead around Ronnie’s outstretched arm. Harriet lunged forward, she seized a handful of the brute’s hair, but it was dragging Ronnie away as easily as though she were a rag doll —</p><p>Then, out of nowhere, something hit Harriet so hard across the face she was knocked off her feet again. She heard Hermes shriek with pain and fall too.</p><p>Harriet groped for her wand, blinking blood out of her eyes — “Lumos!” she whispered.</p><p>The wandlight showed her the trunk of a thick tree; they had chased Scabbers into the shadow of the Whomping Willow and its branches were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backward and forward to stop them going nearer.</p><p>And there, at the base of the trunk, was the dog, dragging Ronnie backward into a large gap in the roots — Ronnie was fighting furiously, but her head and torso were slipping out of sight —</p><p>“Ronnie!” Harriet shouted, trying to follow, but a heavy branch whipped lethally through the air and she was forced backward again.</p><p>All they could see now was one of Ronnie’s legs, which she had hooked around a root in an effort to stop the dog from pulling her farther underground — but a horrible crack cut the air like a gunshot; Ronnie’s leg had broken, and a moment later, her foot vanished from sight.</p><p>“Harriet — we’ve got to go for help —” Hermes gasped; he was bleeding too; the Willow had cut him across the shoulder.</p><p>“No! That thing’s big enough to eat her; we haven’t got time —”</p><p>“Harriet — we’re never going to get through without help —”</p><p>Another branch whipped down at them, twigs clenched like knuckles.</p><p>“If that dog can get in, we can,” Harriet panted, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches, but she couldn’t get an inch nearer to the tree roots without being in range of the tree’s blows.</p><p>“Oh, help, help,” Hermes whispered frantically, dancing uncertainly on the spot, “please...”</p><p>Crookshanks darted forward. He slithered between the battering branches like a snake and placed his front paws upon a knot on the trunk.</p><p>Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook.</p><p>“Crookshanks!” Hermes whispered uncertainly. He now grasped Harriet’s arm painfully hard. “How did he know — ?”</p><p>“He’s friends with that dog,” said Harriet grimly. “I’ve seen them together. Come on — and keep your wand out —”</p><p>They covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before they had reached the gap in the roots, Crookshanks had slid into it with a flick of his bottlebrush tail. Harriet went next; she crawled forward, headfirst, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. Crookshanks was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from Harriet’s wand. Seconds later, Hermes slithered down beside her.</p><p>“Where’s Ronnie?” he whispered in a terrified voice.</p><p>“This way,” said Harriet, setting off, bent-backed, after Crookshanks.</p><p>“Where does this tunnel come out?” Hermes asked breathlessly from behind her.</p><p>“I don’t know. . . . It’s marked on the Marauder’s Map but Frankie and Georgina said no one’s ever gotten into it. . . . It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it was heading for Hogsmeade. . . .”</p><p>They moved as fast as they could, bent almost double; ahead of them, Crookshanks’s tail bobbed in and out of view. On and on went the passage; it felt at least as long as the one to Honeydukes. . . . All Harriet could think of was Ronnie and what the enormous dog might be doing to her. . . . She was drawing breath in sharp, painful gasps, running at a crouch. . . .<br/>And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Crookshanks had gone. Instead, Harriet could see a patch of dim light through a small opening.</p><p>She and Hermes paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. Both raised their wands to see what lay beyond.</p><p>It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up.<br/>Harriet glanced at Hermes, who looked very frightened but nodded.</p><p>Harriet pulled herself out of the hole, staring around. The room was deserted, but a door to their right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway. Hermes suddenly grabbed Harriet’s arm again. His wide eyes were traveling around the boarded windows.</p><p>“Harriet,” he whispered, “I think we’re in the Shrieking Shack.”</p><p>Harriet looked around. Her eyes fell on a wooden chair near them. Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off entirely.</p><p>“Ghosts didn’t do that,” she said slowly.</p><p>At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. Both of them looked up at the ceiling. Hermes’ grip on Harriet’s arm was so tight she was losing feeling in her fingers. She raised her eyebrows at him; he nodded again and let go.</p><p>Quietly as they could, they crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.</p><p>They reached the dark landing.</p><p>“Nox,” they whispered together, and the lights at the end of their wands went out. Only one door was open. As they crept toward it, they heard movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud purring. They exchanged a last look, a last nod.</p><p>Wand held tightly before her, Harriet kicked the door wide open.</p><p>On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of them. On the floor beside him, clutching her leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Ronnie.</p><p>Harriet and Hermes dashed across to her.</p><p>“Ronnie — are you okay?”</p><p>“Where’s the dog?”</p><p>“Not a dog,” Ronnie moaned. Her teeth were gritted with pain. “Harriet, it’s a trap —” </p><p>“What —”</p><p>“She’s the dog... she’s an Animagus...”</p><p>Ronnie was staring over Harriet’s shoulder. Harriet wheeled around. With a snap, the woman in the shadows closed the door behind them.</p><p>A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to her elbows. If eyes hadn’t been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, she might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of her face, it looked like a skull. Her yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Siri Black.</p><p>“Expelliarmus!” she croaked, pointing Ronnie’s wand at them.</p><p>Harriet’s and Hermes’ wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Then she took a step closer. Her eyes were fixed on Harriet.</p><p>“I thought you’d come and help your friend,” she said hoarsely. Her voice sounded as though she had long since lost the habit of using it. “Your mother would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I’m grateful... it will make everything much easier...”</p><p>The taunt about her mother rang in Harriet’s ears as though Black had bellowed it. A boiling hate erupted in Harriet’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in her life, she wanted her wand back in her hand, not to defend herself, but to attack . . . to kill. With- out knowing what she was doing, she started forward, but there was a sudden movement on either side of her and two pairs of hands grabbed her and held her back... </p><p>“No, Harriet!” Hermes gasped in a petrified whisper; Ronnie, however, spoke to Black.</p><p>“If you want to kill Harriet, you’ll have to kill us too!” she said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining her of still more color, and she swayed slightly as she spoke.</p><p>Something flickered in Black’s shadowed eyes.</p><p>“Lie down,” she said quietly to Ronnie. “You will damage that leg even more.”</p><p>“Did you hear me?” Ronnie said weakly, though she was clinging painfully to Harriet to stay upright. “You’ll have to kill all three of us!”</p><p>“There’ll be only one murder here tonight,” said Black, and her grin widened.</p><p>“Why’s that?” Harriet spat, trying to wrench herself free of Ronnie and Hermes. “Didn’t care last time, did you? Didn’t mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew. . . . What’s the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?”</p><p>“Harriet!” Hermes whimpered. “Be quiet!”</p><p>“SHE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!” Harriet roared, and with a huge effort she broke free of Hermes’ and Ronnie’s restraint and lunged forward —</p><p>She had forgotten about magic — she had forgotten that she was short and skinny and thirteen, whereas Black was a tall, full-grown woman — all Harriet knew was that she wanted to hurt Black as badly as she could and that she didn’t care how much she got hurt in return —</p><p>Perhaps it was the shock of Harriet doing something so stupid, but Black didn’t raise the wands in time — one of Harriet’s hands fastened over her wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harriet’s other hand collided with the side of Black’s head and they fell, backward, into the wall —</p><p>Hermes was screaming; Ronnie was yelling; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Black’s hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed Harriet’s face by inches; Harriet felt the shrunken arm under her fingers twisting madly, but she clung on, her other hand punching every part of Black it could find.</p><p>But Black’s free hand had found Harriet’s throat — “No,” she hissed, “I’ve waited too long —”</p><p>The fingers tightened, Harriet choked, her glasses askew.</p><p>Then she saw Hermes’ foot swing out of nowhere. Black let go of Harriet with a grunt of pain; Ronnie had thrown herself on Black’s wand hand and Harriet heard a faint clatter —</p><p>She fought free of the tangle of bodies and saw her own wand rolling across the floor; she threw herself toward it but —</p><p>“Argh!”</p><p>Crookshanks had joined the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves deep into Harriet’s arm; Harriet threw her off, but Crookshanks now darted toward Harriet’s wand —</p><p>“NO YOU DON’T!” roared Harriet, and she aimed a kick at Crookshanks that made the cat leap aside, spitting; Harriet snatched up her wand and turned —</p><p>“Get out of the way!” she shouted at Ronnie and Hermes.</p><p>They didn’t need telling twice. Hermes, gasping for breath, his lip bleeding, scrambled aside, snatching up his and Ronnie’s wands. Ronnie crawled to the four-poster and collapsed onto it, panting, her white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching her broken leg.</p><p>Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. Her thin chest rose and fell rapidly as she watched Harriet walking slowly nearer, her wand pointing straight at Black’s heart.</p><p>“Going to kill me, Harriet?” she whispered.</p><p>Harriet stopped right above her, her wand still pointing at Black’s chest, looking down at her. A livid bruise was rising around Black’s left eye and her nose was bleeding.</p><p>“You killed my parents,” said Harriet, her voice shaking slightly, but her wand hand quite steady.</p><p>Black stared up at her out of those sunken eyes.</p><p>“I don’t deny it,” she said very quietly. “But if you knew the whole story.”</p><p>“The whole story?” Harriet repeated, a furious pounding in her ears. “You sold them to Voldemort. That’s all I need to know.”</p><p>“You’ve got to listen to me,” Black said, and there was a note of urgency in her voice now. “You’ll regret it if you don’t... You don’t understand...”</p><p>“I understand a lot better than you think,” said Harriet, and her voice shook more than ever. “You never heard him, did you? My dad... trying to stop Voldemort killing me... and you did that... you did it...”</p><p>Before either of them could say another word, something ginger streaked past Harriet; Crookshanks leapt onto Black’s chest and set- tled himself there, right over Black’s heart. Black blinked and looked down at the cat.</p><p>“Get off,” she murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off her.</p><p>But Crookshanks sank his claws into Black’s robes and wouldn’t shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to Harriet and looked up at her with those great yellow eyes. To her right, Hermes gave a dry sob.</p><p>Harriet stared down at Black and Crookshanks, her grip tightening on the wand. So what if she had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black. . . . If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn’t Harriet’s business. . . . If Black wanted to save it, that only proved she cared more for Crookshanks than for Harriet’s parents...</p><p>Harriet raised the wand. Now was the moment to do it. Now was the moment to avenge her mother and father. She was going to kill Black. She had to kill Black. This was her chance...</p><p>The seconds lengthened. And still Harriet stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at her, Crookshanks on her chest. Ronnie’s ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermes was quite silent.</p><p>And then came a new sound —</p><p>Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor — some- one was moving downstairs.</p><p>“WE’RE UP HERE!” Hermes screamed suddenly. “WE’RE UP HERE — SIRI BLACK — QUICK!”</p><p>Black made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks; Harriet gripped her wand convulsively — Do it now! said a voice in her head — but the footsteps were thundering up the stairs and Harriet still hadn’t done it.</p><p>The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harriet wheeled around as Professor Howell came hurtling into the room, her face bloodless, her wand raised and ready. Her eyes flickered over Ronnie, lying on the floor, over Hermes, cowering next to the door, to Harriet, standing there with her wand covering Black, and then to Black herself, crumpled and bleeding at Harriet’s feet.</p><p>“Expelliarmus!” Howell shouted.</p><p>Harriet’s wand flew once more out of her hand; so did the two Hermes was holding. Howell caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest.</p><p>Harriet stood there, feeling suddenly empty. She hadn’t done it. Her nerve had failed her. Black was going to be handed back to the dementors.</p><p>Then Howell spoke, in a very tense voice. “Where is she, Siri?”</p><p>Harriet looked quickly at Howell. She didn’t understand what Howell meant. Who was Howell talking about? She turned to look at Black again.</p><p>Black’s face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, she didn’t move at all. Then, very slowly, she raised her empty hand and pointed straight at Ronnie. Mystified, Harriet glanced around at Ronnie, who looked bewildered.</p><p>“But then...” Howell muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed she was trying to read her mind, “...why hasn’t she shown herself before now? Unless” — Howell’s eyes suddenly widened, as though she was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, “— unless she was the one... unless you switched... without telling me?”</p><p>Very slowly, her sunken gaze never leaving Howell’s face, Black nodded.</p><p>“Professor,” Harriet interrupted loudly, “what’s going on — ?”</p><p>But she never finished the question, because what she saw made her voice die in her throat. Howell was lowering her wand, gazing fixedly at Black. The Professor walked to Black’s side, seized her hand, pulled her to her feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black like a sister.</p><p>Harriet felt as though the bottom had dropped out of her stomach.</p><p>“I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” Hermes screamed.</p><p>Howell let go of Black and turned to him. He had raised himself off the floor and was pointing at Howell, wild-eyed. “You — you —”</p><p>“Hermes —”</p><p>“ — you and her!”</p><p>“Hermes, calm down —”</p><p>“I didn’t tell anyone!” Hermes shrieked. “I’ve been covering up for you —”</p><p>“Hermes, listen to me, please!” Howell shouted. “I can explain —”</p><p>Harriet could feel herself shaking, not with fear, but with a fresh wave of fury.</p><p>“I trusted you,” she shouted at Howell, her voice wavering out of control, “and all the time you’ve been her friend!”</p><p>“You’re wrong,” said Howell. “I haven’t been Sirius’s friend, but I am now — Let me explain...”</p><p>“NO!” Hermes screamed. “Harriet, don’t trust her, she’s been helping Black get into the castle, she wants you dead too — she’s a werewolf!”</p><p>There was a ringing silence. Everyone’s eyes were now on Howell, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.</p><p>“Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermes,” she said. “Only one out of three, I’m afraid. I have not been helping Siri get into the castle and I certainly don’t want Harriet dead...” An odd shiver passed over her face. “But I won’t deny that I am a werewolf.”</p><p>Ronnie made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Howell made toward her, looking concerned, but Ronnie gasped, “Get away from me, werewolf!”</p><p>Howell stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, she turned to Hermes and said, “How long have you known?”</p><p>“Ages,” Hermes whispered. “Since I did Professor Prince’s essay. . . .”</p><p>“She’ll be delighted,” said Howell coolly. “She assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant... Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?”</p><p>“Both,” Hermes said quietly.</p><p>Howell forced a laugh.</p><p>“You’re the cleverest wizard of your age I’ve ever met, Hermes.” </p><p>“I’m not,” Hermes whispered. “If I’d been a bit cleverer, I’d have told everyone what you are!”</p><p>“But they already know,” said Howell. “At least, the staff do.” </p><p>“Dumbledore hired you when she knew you were a werewolf?”</p><p>Ronnie gasped. “Is she mad?”</p><p>“Some of the staff thought so,” said Howell. “She had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I’m trustworthy —” </p><p>“AND SHE WAS WRONG!” Harriet yelled. “YOU’VE BEEN HELPING HER ALL THE TIME!” She was pointing at Black, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, her face hidden in one shaking hand. Crookshanks leapt up beside her and stepped onto her lap, purring. Ronnie edged away from both of them, dragging her leg.</p><p>“I have not been helping Siri,” said Howell. “If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll explain. Look —”</p><p>She separated Harriet’s, Ronnie’s and Hermes’ wands and threw each back to its owner; Harriet caught hers, stunned.</p><p>“There,” said Howell, sticking her own wand back into her belt. “You’re armed, we’re not. Now will you listen?”</p><p>Harriet didn’t know what to think. Was it a trick?</p><p>“If you haven’t been helping her,” she said, with a furious glance at Black, “how did you know she was here?”</p><p>“The map,” said Howell. “The Marauder’s Map. I was in my office examining it —”</p><p>“You know how to work it?” Harriet said suspiciously.</p><p>“Of course I know how to work it,” said Howell, waving her hand impatiently. “I helped write it. I’m Moony — that was my friends’ nickname for me at school.”</p><p>“You wrote — ?”</p><p>“The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ronnie, and Hermes might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before her hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn’t I?”</p><p>She had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at her feet.<br/>“You might have been wearing your father’s old cloak, Harriet —” </p><p>“How d’you know about the cloak?”</p><p>“The number of times I saw Jane disappearing under it...” said Howell, waving an impatient hand again. “The point is, even if you’re wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder’s Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid’s hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else.”</p><p>“What?” said Harriet. “No, we weren’t!”</p><p>“I couldn’t believe my eyes,” said Howell, still pacing, and ignoring Harriet’s interruption. “I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could she be with you?”</p><p>“No one was with us!” said Harriet.</p><p>“And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Siri Black. . . . I saw her collide with you; I watched as she pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —”</p><p>“One of us!” Ronnie said angrily.</p><p>“No, Ronnie,” said Howell. “Two of you.”</p><p>She had stopped her pacing, her eyes moving over Ronnie.</p><p>“Do you think I could have a look at the rat?” She said evenly. </p><p>“What?” said Ronnie. “What’s Scabbers got to do with it?” </p><p>“Everything,” said Howell. “Could I see her, please?”</p><p>Ronnie hesitated, then put a hand inside her robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ronnie had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black’s leg and made a soft hissing noise.</p><p>Howell moved closer to Ronnie. She seemed to be holding her breath as she gazed intently at Scabbers.</p><p>“What?” Ronnie said again, holding Scabbers close to her, looking scared. “What’s my rat got to do with anything?”</p><p>“That’s not a rat,” croaked Siri Black suddenly.</p><p>“What d’you mean — of course he’s a rat —”</p><p>“No, she’s not,” said Howell quietly. “She’s a witch.”</p><p>“An Animagus,” said Black, “by the name of Petunia Pettigrew.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took a few seconds for the absurdity of this statement to sink in. Then Ronnie voiced what Harriet was thinking.</p><p>“You’re both mental.”</p><p>“Ridiculous!” said Hermes faintly.</p><p>“Petunia Pettigrew’s dead!” said Harriet. “She killed her twelve years ago!” She pointed at Black, whose face twitched convulsively.</p><p>“I meant to,” she growled, her yellow teeth bared, “but little Petunia got the better of me... not this time, though!”</p><p>And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers; Ronnie yelled with pain as Black’s weight fell on her broken leg.</p><p>“Siri, NO!” Howell yelled, launching herself forwards and dragging Black away from Ronnie again, “WAIT! You can’t do it just like that — they need to understand — we’ve got to explain —”</p><p>“We can explain afterwards!” snarled Black, trying to throw Howell off. One hand was still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ronnie’s face and neck as she tried to escape.</p><p>“They’ve — got — a — right — to — know — everything!” Howell panted, still trying to restrain Black. “Ronnie’s kept her as a pet! There are parts of it even I don’t understand! And Harriet — you owe Harriet the truth, Siri!”</p><p>Black stopped struggling, though her hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ronnie’s bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands.</p><p>“All right, then,” Black said, without taking her eyes off the rat. “Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Rema. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for...”</p><p>“You’re nutters, both of you,” said Ronnie shakily, looking round at Harriet and Hermes for support. “I’ve had enough of this. I’m off.”</p><p>She tried to heave herself up on her good leg, but Howell raised her wand again, pointing it at Scabbers.</p><p>“You’re going to hear me out, Ronnie,” she said quietly. “Just keep a tight hold on Petunia while you listen.”</p><p>“HE’S NOT Petunia, HE’S SCABBERS!” Ronnie yelled, trying to force the rat back into her front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Ronnie swayed and overbalanced, and Harriet caught her and pushed her back down to the bed. Then, ignoring Black, Harriet turned to Howell.</p><p>“There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die,” she said. “A whole street full of them . . .”</p><p>“They didn’t see what they thought they saw!” said Black savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Ronnie’s hands.</p><p>“Everyone thought Siri killed Petunia,” said Howell, nodding. “I believed it myself — until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder’s map never lies... Petunia’s alive. Ronnie’s holding her, Harriet.”</p><p>Harriet looked down at Ronnie, and as their eyes met, they agreed, silently: Black and Howell were both out of their minds. Their story made no sense whatsoever. How could Scabbers be Petunia Pettigrew? Azkaban must have unhinged Black after all — but why was Howell playing along with her?</p><p>Then Hermes spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will Professor Howell to talk sensibly.</p><p>“But Professor Howell... Scabbers can’t be Pettigrew... it just can’t be true, you know it can’t...”</p><p>“Why can’t it be true?” Howell said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermes had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with grindylows.</p><p>“Because . . . because people would know if Petunia Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework — the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there’s a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things . . . and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew’s name wasn’t on the list —”</p><p>Harriet had barely had time to marvel inwardly at the effort Hermes put into his homework, when Howell started to laugh.</p><p>“Right again, Hermes!” she said. “But the Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts.”</p><p>“If you’re going to tell them the story, get a move on, Rema,” snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers’s every desperate move. “I’ve waited twelve years, I’m not going to wait much longer.”</p><p>“All right... but you’ll need to help me, Siri,” said Howell, “I only know how it began...”</p><p>Howell broke off. There had been a loud creak behind her. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All five of them stared at it. Then Howell strode toward it and looked out into the landing.</p><p>“No one there...”</p><p>“This place is haunted!” said Ronnie.</p><p>“It’s not,” said Howell, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. “The Shrieking Shack was never haunted... The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me.”</p><p>She pushed her graying hair out of her eyes, thought for a moment, then said, “That’s where all of this starts — with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn’t been bitten... and if I hadn’t been so foolhardy...”</p><p>She looked sober and tired. Ronnie started to interrupt, but Hermione said, “Shh!” He was watching Howell very intently.</p><p>“I was a very small girl when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Prince has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform... I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again.</p><p>“Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren’t likely to want their children exposed to me.</p><p>“But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and she was sympathetic. She said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn’t come to school...” Howell sighed, and looked directly at Harriet. “I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house” — Howell looked miserably around the room, — “the tunnel that leads to it — they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous.”</p><p>Harriet couldn’t see where this story was going, but she was listening raptly all the same. The only sound apart from Howell’s voice was Scabbers’s frightened squeaking.</p><p>“My transformations in those days were — were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor... Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don’t dare approach it...</p><p>“But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Siri Black . . . Petunia Pettigrew . . . and, of course, your mother, Harriet — Jane Potter.</p><p>“Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my father was ill, and that I had to go home to see him. . . . I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermes, worked out the truth...</p><p>“And they didn’t desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.”</p><p>“My mum too?” said Harriet, astounded.</p><p>“Yes, indeed,” said Howell. “It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your mother and Siri here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong — one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Petunia needed all the help she could get from Jane and Siri. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will.”</p><p>“But how did that help you?” said Hermes, sounding puzzled.</p><p>“They couldn’t keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals,” said Howell. “A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under Jane’s Invisibility Cloak. They transformed... Petunia, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow’s attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them.”</p><p>“Hurry up, Rema,” snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on her face.</p><p>“I’m getting there, Siri, I’m getting there... well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Siri and Jane transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did... And that’s how we came to write the Marauder’s Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Siri is Padfoot. Petunia is Wormtail. Jane was Prongs.”</p><p>“What sort of animal — ?” Harriet began, but Hermes cut her off.</p><p>“That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?”</p><p>“A thought that still haunts me,” said Howell heavily. “And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless — carried away with our own cleverness.</p><p>“I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course... she had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other head- master would have done so, and she had no idea I was breaking the rules she had set down for my own and others’ safety. She never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month’s adventure. And I haven’t changed...”</p><p>Howell’s face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in her voice. “All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Siri was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed her trust while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me... and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. She let me into Hogwarts as a girl, and she gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Siri was getting into the school using dark arts she learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it... so, in a way, Prince’s been right about me all along.”</p><p>“Prince?” said Black harshly, taking her eyes off Scabbers for the first time in minutes and looking up at Howell. “What’s Prince got to do with it?”</p><p>“She’s here, Siri,” said Howell heavily. “She’s teaching here as well.” She looked up at Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes.</p><p>“Professor Prince was at school with us. She fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. She has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. She has her reasons . . . you see, Siri here played a trick on her which nearly killed her, a trick which involved me —”</p><p>Black made a derisive noise.</p><p>“It served her right,” she sneered. “Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to... hoping she could get us expelled...”</p><p>“Stevanie was very interested in where I went every month.” Howell told Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes. “We were in the same year, you know, and we — er — didn’t like each other very much. She especially disliked Jane. Jealous, I think, of Jane’s talent on the Quidditch field... anyway Prince had seen me crossing the grounds with Master Pomfrey one evening as he led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Siri thought it would be — er — amusing, to tell Prince all she had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and she’d be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Prince tried it — if she’d got as far as this house, she’d have met a fully grown werewolf — but your mother, who’d heard what Siri had done, went after Prince and pulled her back, at great risk to her life... Prince glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. She was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on she knew what I was...”</p><p>“So that’s why Prince doesn’t like you,” said Harriet slowly, “because she thought you were in on the joke?”</p><p>“That’s right,” sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Howell.</p><p>Stevanie Prince was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, her wand pointing directly at Howell.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The Servant of Lord Voldemort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hermes screamed. Black leapt to her feet. Harriet felt as though she’d received a huge electric shock.</p><p>“I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow,” said Prince, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at Howell’s chest. “Very useful, Evans, I thank you...”</p><p>Prince was slightly breathless, but her face was full of suppressed triumph. “You’re wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?” she said, her eyes glittering. “I’ve just been to your office, Howell. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did... lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight.”</p><p>“Stevanie —” Howell began, but Prince overrode her.</p><p>“I’ve told the headmistress again and again that you’re helping your old friend Black into the castle, Howell, and here’s the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout —”</p><p>“Stevanie, you’re making a mistake,” said Howell urgently. “You haven’t heard everything — I can explain — Siri is not here to kill Harriet —”</p><p>“Two more for Azkaban tonight,” said Prince, her eyes now gleaming fanatically. “I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this... She was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Howell... a tame werewolf —”</p><p>“You fool,” said Howell softly. “Is a schoolgirl grudge worth putting an innocent woman back inside Azkaban?”</p><p>BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Prince’s wand and twisted themselves around Howell’s mouth, wrists, and ankles; she overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. With a roar of rage, Black started toward Prince, but Prince pointed her wand straight between Black’s eyes.</p><p>“Give me a reason,” she whispered. “Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will.”</p><p>Black stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.</p><p>Harriet stood there, paralyzed, not knowing what to do or whom to believe. She glanced around at Ronnie and Hermes. Ronnie looked just as confused as she did, still fighting to keep hold on the struggling Scabbers. Hermes, however, took an uncertain step toward Prince and said, in a very breathless voice, “Professor Prince — it — it wouldn’t hurt to hear what they’ve got to say, w — would it?”</p><p>“Mr Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school,” Prince spat. “You, Evans, and Prewett are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue.”</p><p>“But if — if there was a mistake —”</p><p>“KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID BOY!” Prince shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. “DON’T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” A few sparks shot out of the end of her wand, which was still pointed at Black’s face. Hermes fell silent.</p><p>“Vengeance is very sweet,” Prince breathed at Black. “How I hoped I would be the one to catch you...”</p><p>“The joke’s on you again, Stevanie,” Black snarled. “As long as this girl brings her rat up to the castle” — she jerked her head at Ronnie — “I’ll come quietly...”</p><p>“Up to the castle?” said Prince silkily. “I don’t think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They’ll be very pleased to see you, Black... pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay...”</p><p>What little color there was in Black’s face left it.</p><p>“You — you’ve got to hear me out,” she croaked. “The rat — look at the rat —”</p><p>But there was a mad glint in Prince’s eyes that Harriet had never seen before. She seemed beyond reason.</p><p>“Come on, all of you,” she said. She clicked her fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Howell flew to her hands. “I’ll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for her too —”</p><p>Before she knew what she was doing, Harriet had crossed the room in three strides and blocked the door.</p><p>“Get out of the way, Evans, you’re in enough trouble already,” snarled Prince. “If I hadn’t been here to save your skin —”</p><p>“Professor Howell could have killed me about a hundred times this year,” Harriet said. “I’ve been alone with her loads of times, having defense lessons against the dementors. If she was helping Black, why didn’t she just finish me off then?”</p><p>“Don’t ask me to fathom the way a werewolf’s mind works,” hissed Prince. “Get out of the way, Evans.”</p><p>“YOU’RE PATHETIC!” Harriet yelled. “JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON’T EVEN LISTEN —”</p><p>“SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!” Prince shrieked, looking madder than ever. “Like mother, like daughter, Evans! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if she’d killed you! You’d have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black — now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, EVANS!”</p><p>Harriet made up her mind in a split second. Before Prince could take even one step toward her, she had raised her wand.</p><p>“Expelliarmus!” She yelled — except that hers wasn’t the only voice that shouted. There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Prince was lifted off her feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under her hair. She had been knocked out.</p><p>Harriet looked around. Both Ronnie and Hermes had tried to disarm Prince at exactly the same moment. Prince’s wand soared in a high arc and landed on the bed next to Crookshanks.</p><p>“You shouldn’t have done that,” said Black, looking at Harriet. “You should have left her to me...”</p><p>Harriet avoided Black’s eyes. She wasn’t sure, even now, that she’d done the right thing.</p><p>“We attacked a teacher... We attacked a teacher... ” Hermes whimpered, staring at the lifeless Prince with frightened eyes. “Oh, we’re going to be in so much trouble —”</p><p>Howell was struggling against her bonds. Black bent down quickly and untied her. Howell straightened up, rubbing her arms where the ropes had cut into them.</p><p>“Thank you, Harriet,” she said.</p><p>“I’m still not saying I believe you,” she told Howell.</p><p>“Then it’s time we offered you some proof,” said Howell. “You, girl — give me Petunia, please. Now.”</p><p>Ronnie clutched Scabbers closer to her chest.<br/>“Come off it,” she said weakly. “Are you trying to say she broke out of Azkaban just to get her hands on Scabbers? I mean...” She looked up at Harriet and Hermes for support, “Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how’s she supposed to know which one she’s after if she was locked up in Azkaban?”</p><p>“You know, Siri, that’s a fair question,” said Howell, turning to Black and frowning slightly. “How did you find out where she was?” Black put one of her clawlike hands inside her robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which she smoothed flat and held out to show the others.</p><p>It was the photograph of Ronnie and her family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ronnie’s shoulder, was Scabbers.</p><p>“How did you get this?” Howell asked Black, thunderstruck. </p><p>“Fudge,” said Black. “When she came to inspect Azkaban last year, she gave me her paper. And there was Petunia, on the front page... on this girl’s shoulder... I knew her at once... how many times had I seen her transform? And the caption said the girl would be going back to Hogwarts... to where Harriet was...”</p><p>“My God,” said Howell softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. “Her front paw...”</p><p>“What about it?” said Ronnie defiantly.</p><p>“She’s got a toe missing,” said Black.</p><p>“Of course,” Howell breathed. “So simple... so brilliant... she cut it off herself?”</p><p>“Just before she transformed,” said Black. “When I cornered her, she yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Leslie and Jane. Then, before I could curse her, she blew apart the street with the wand behind her back, killed everyone within twenty feet of herself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats...”</p><p>“Didn’t you ever hear, Ronnie?” said Howell. “The biggest bit of Petunia they found was her finger.”</p><p>“Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! She’s been in my family for ages, right —”</p><p>“Twelve years, in fact,” said Howell. “Didn’t you ever wonder why she was living so long?”</p><p>“We — we’ve been taking good care of her!” said Ronnie.</p><p>“Not looking too good at the moment, though, is she?” said Howell. “I’d guess she’s been losing weight ever since she heard Siri was on the loose again...”</p><p>“She’s been scared of that mad cat!” said Ronnie, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed.</p><p>But that wasn’t right, Harriet thought suddenly... Scabbers had been looking ill before she met Crookshanks... ever since Ronnie’s return from Egypt... since the time when Black had escaped...</p><p>“This cat isn’t mad,” said Black hoarsely. She reached out a bony hand and stroked Crookshanks’s fluffy head. “He’s the most intelligent of his kind I’ve ever met. He recognized Petunia for what she was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me... Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he’s been helping me...”</p><p>“What do you mean?” breathed Hermes.</p><p>“He tried to bring Petunia to me, but couldn’t... so she stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me... As I understand it, he took them from a girl’s bedside table...”</p><p>Harriet’s brain seemed to be sagging under the weight of what she was hearing. It was absurd... and yet...</p><p>“But Petunia got wind of what was going on and ran for it...” croaked Black. “This cat — Crookshanks, did you call him? — told me Petunia had left blood on the sheets... I supposed she bit herself... Well, faking her own death had worked once...”</p><p>These words jolted Harriet to her senses.</p><p>“And why did she fake her death?” She said furiously. “Because she knew you were about to kill her like you killed my parents!”</p><p>“No,” said Howell, “Harriet —”</p><p>“And now you’ve come to finish her off!”</p><p>“Yes, I have,” said Black, with an evil look at Scabbers.</p><p>“Then I should’ve let Prince take you!” Harriet shouted. “Harriet,” said Howell hurriedly, “don’t you see? All this time we’ve thought Siri betrayed your parents, and Petunia tracked her down — but it was the other way around, don’t you see? Petunia betrayed your mother and father — Siri tracked Petuna down —”</p><p>“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Harriet yelled. “SHE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! SHE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. SHE SAID SHE KILLED THEM!”</p><p>She was pointing at Black, who shook her head slowly; the sunken eyes were suddenly overbright.</p><p>“Harriet... I as good as killed them,” she croaked. “I persuaded Leslie and Jane to change to Petunia at the last moment, persuaded them to use her as Secret-Keeper instead of me... I’m to blame, I know it... The night they died, I’d arranged to check on Petunia, make sure she was still safe, but when I arrived at her hiding place, she’d gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn’t feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents’ house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies... I realized what Petunia must’ve done... what I’d done...”</p><p>Her voice broke. She turned away.</p><p>“Enough of this,” said Howell, and there was a steely note in her voice Harriet had never heard before. “There’s one certain way to prove what really happened. Ronnie, give me that rat.”</p><p>“What are you going to do with her if I give her to you?” Ronnie asked Howell tensely.</p><p>“Force her to show herself,” said Howell. “If she really is a rat, it won’t hurt her.”</p><p>Ronnie hesitated. Then at long last, she held out Scabbers and Howell took her. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, her tiny black eyes bulging in her head.</p><p>“Ready, Siri?” said Howell.</p><p>Black had already retrieved Prince’s wand from the bed. She approached Howell and the struggling rat, and her wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in her face.</p><p>“Together?” she said quietly.</p><p>“I think so,” said Howell, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and her wand in the other. “On the count of three. One — two — THREE!”</p><p>A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, her small gray form twisting madly — Ronnie yelled — the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then —</p><p>It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a woman was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing her hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing up.</p><p>She was a very short man, hardly taller than Harriet and Hermes. Her thin, colorless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. She had the shrunken appearance of a plump woman who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. Her skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers’s fur, and something of the rat lingered around her pointed nose and her very small, watery eyes. She looked around at them all, her breathing fast and shallow. Harriet saw her eyes dart to the door and back again.</p><p>“Well, hello, Petunia,” said Howell pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around her. “Long time, no see.”</p><p>“S — Siri . . . R — Rema . . .” Even Pettigrew’s voice was squeaky. Again, her eyes darted toward the door. “My friends... my old friends...”</p><p>Black’s wand arm rose, but Howell seized her around the wrist, gave her a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, her voice light and casual.</p><p>“We’ve been having a little chat, Petunia, about what happened the night Leslie and Jane died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed —”</p><p>“Rema,” gasped Pettigrew, and Harriet could see beads of sweat breaking out over her pasty face, “you don’t believe her, do you? He tried to kill me, Rema...”</p><p>“So we’ve heard,” said Howell, more coldly. “I’d like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Petunia, if you’d be so —”</p><p>“She’s come to try and kill me again!” Pettigrew squeaked suddenly, pointing at Black, and Harriet saw that she used her middle finger, because her index was missing. “She killed Leslie and Jane and now she’s going to kill me too... You’ve got to help me, Rema...”</p><p>Black’s face looked more skull-like than ever as she stared at Pettigrew with her fathomless eyes.</p><p>“No one’s going to try and kill you until we’ve sorted a few things out,” said Howell.</p><p>“Sorted things out?” squealed Pettigrew, looking wildly about her once more, eyes taking in the boarded windows and, again, the only door. “I knew she’d come after me! I knew she’d be back for me! I’ve been waiting for this for twelve years!”</p><p>“You knew Siri was going to break out of Azkaban?” said Howell, her brow furrowed. “When nobody has ever done it before?”</p><p>“She’s got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!” Pettigrew shouted shrilly. “How else did she get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught her a few tricks!”</p><p>Black started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room.</p><p>“Voldemort, teach me tricks?” she said.</p><p>Pettigrew flinched as though Black had brandished a whip at her.</p><p>“What, scared to hear your old master’s name?” said Black. “I don’t blame you, Petunia. His lot aren’t very happy with you, are they?”</p><p>“Don’t know what you mean, Siri —” muttered Pettigrew, her breathing faster than ever. Her whole face was shining with sweat now.</p><p>“You haven’t been hiding from me for twelve years,” said Black. “You’ve been hiding from Voldemort’s old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Petunia... They all think you’re dead, or you’d have to answer to them... I’ve heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Evans’ on your information... and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort’s supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they’ve seen the error of their ways.... If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Petunia —”</p><p>“Don’t know... what you’re talking about...” said Pettigrew again, more shrilly than ever. She wiped her face on her sleeve and looked up at Howell. “You don’t believe this — this madness, Rema —”</p><p>“I must admit, Petunia, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent woman would want to spend twelve years as a rat,” said Howell evenly.</p><p>“Innocent, but scared!” squealed Pettigrew. “If Voldemort’s supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best women in Azkaban — the spy, Siri Black!”</p><p>Black’s face contorted.</p><p>“How dare you,” she growled, sounding suddenly like the bear-sized dog she had been. “I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Petunia — I’ll never understand why I didn’t see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who’d look after you, didn’t you? It used to be us... me and Rema... and Jane...”</p><p>Pettigrew wiped her face again; she was almost panting for breath.</p><p>“Me, a spy... must be out of your mind... never... don’t know how you can say such a —”</p><p>“Leslie and Jane only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it,” Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward. “I thought it was the perfect plan... a bluff... Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they’d use a weak, talentless thing like you... It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Evans’.”</p><p>Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; Harriet caught words like “far-fetched” and “lunacy,” but she couldn’t help paying more attention to the ashen color of Pettigrew’s face and the way her eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door.</p><p>“Professor Howell?” said Hermes timidly. “Can — can I say something?”</p><p>“Certainly, Hermes,” said Howell courteously.</p><p>“Well — Scabbers — I mean, this — this woman — she’s been sleeping in Harriet’s dormitory for three years. If she’s working for You- Know-Who, how come she never tried to hurt Harriet before now?”</p><p>“There!” said Pettigrew shrilly, pointing at Ronnie with her maimed hand. “Thank you! You see, Rema? I have never hurt a hair of Harriet’s head! Why should I?”</p><p>“I’ll tell you why,” said Black. “Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort’s been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he’s half dead. You weren’t about to commit murder right under Ariana Dumbledore’s nose, for a wreck of a wizard who’d lost all of his power, were you? You’d want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn’t you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren’t you, Petunia? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him...”</p><p>Pettigrew opened her mouth and closed it several times. She seemed to have lost the ability to talk.</p><p>“Er — Miss Black — Siri?” said Hermes.</p><p>Black jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermes as though she had never seen anything quite like him.</p><p>“If you don’t mind me asking, how — how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn’t use Dark Magic?”</p><p>“Thank you!” gasped Pettigrew, nodding frantically at him. “Exactly! Precisely what I —”</p><p>But Howell silenced her with a look. Black was frowning slightly at Hermes, but not as though she were annoyed with him. She seemed to be pondering her answer.</p><p>“I don’t know how I did it,” she said slowly. “I think the only rea-son I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn’t a happy thought, so the dementors couldn’t suck it out of me... but it kept me sane and knowing who I am... helped me keep my powers... so when it all became... too much... I could transform in my cell... become a dog. Dementors can’t see, you know...” She swallowed. “They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions... They could tell that my feelings were less — less human, less complex when I was a dog... but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn’t trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand...</p><p>“But then I saw Petunia in that picture... I realized she was at Hogwarts with Harriet... perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached her ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again...”</p><p>Pettigrew was shaking her head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at Black as though hypnotized.</p><p>“...ready to strike at the moment she could be sure of allies... and to deliver the last Evans to them. If she gave them Harriet, who’d dare say she’d betrayed Lord Voldemort? She’d be welcomed back with honors...</p><p>“So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Petunia was still alive...”</p><p>Harriet remembered what Mrs Prewett had told Mr Prewett. “The guards say she’s been talking in her sleep... always the same words... ‘She’s at Hogwarts.’ ”</p><p>“It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the dementors couldn’t destroy it... It wasn’t a happy feeling... it was an obses- sion... but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog... It’s so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused... I was thin, very thin... thin enough to slip through the bars... I swam as a dog back to the mainland... I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I’ve been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your mother did, Harriet...”</p><p>She looked at Harriet, who did not look away.</p><p>“Believe me,” croaked Black. “Believe me, Harriet. I never betrayed Jane and Leslie. I would have died before I betrayed them.” And at long last, Harriet believed her. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded. </p><p>“No!”</p><p>Pettigrew had fallen to her knees as though Harriet’s nod had been her own death sentence. She shuffled forward on her knees, grovelling, her hands clasped in front of her as though praying.</p><p>“Siri — it’s me... it’s Petunia... your friend... you wouldn’t...” Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.</p><p>“There’s enough filth on my robes without you touching them,” said Black.</p><p>“Rema!” Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Howell instead, writhing imploringly in front of her. “You don’t believe this... wouldn’t Siri have told you they’d changed the plan?”</p><p>“Not if she thought I was the spy, Petunia,” said Howell. “I assume that’s why you didn’t tell me, Siri?” she said casually over Pettigrew’s head.</p><p>“Forgive me, Rema,” said Black.</p><p>“Not at all, Padfoot, old friend,” said Howell, who was now rolling up her sleeves. “And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?”</p><p>“Of course,” said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across her gaunt face. She, too, began rolling up her sleeves. “Shall we kill her together?”</p><p>“Yes, I think so,” said Howell grimly.</p><p>“You wouldn’t... you won’t...” gasped Pettigrew. And she scrambled around to Ronnie. “Ronnie... haven’t I been a good friend... a good pet? You won’t let them kill me, Ronnie, will you... you’re on my side, aren’t you?”</p><p>But Ronnie was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.</p><p>“I let you sleep in my bed !” she said.</p><p>“Kind girl... kind master...” Pettigrew crawled toward Ronnie, “you won’t let them do it... I was your rat... I was a good pet...”</p><p>“If you made a better rat than a human, it’s not much to boast about, Petunia,” said Black harshly. Ronnie, going still paler with pain, wrenched her broken leg out of Pettigrew’s reach. Pettigrew turned on her knees, staggered forward, and seized the hem of Hermes’ robes.</p><p>“Sweet boy... clever boy... you — you won’t let them... Help me...”</p><p>Hermes pulled his robes out of Pettigrew’s clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified.</p><p>Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned her head slowly toward Harriet.</p><p>“Harriet... Harriet... you look just like your mother.. just like her...”</p><p>“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRIET?” roared Black. “HOW DARE YOU FACE HER? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JANE IN FRONT OF HER?”</p><p>“Harriet,” whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward her, hands out-stretched. “Harriet, Jane wouldn’t have wanted me killed... Jane would have understood, Harriet... she would have shown me mercy...”</p><p>Both Black and Howell strode forward, seized Pettigrew’s shoulders, and threw her backward onto the floor. She sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.</p><p>“You sold Leslie and Jane to Voldemort,” said Black, who was shaking too. “Do you deny it?”</p><p>Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.</p><p>“Siri, Siri, what could I have done? The Dark Lord... you have no idea... he has weapons you can’t imagine... I was scared, Siri, I was never brave like you and Rema and Jane. I never meant it to happen... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me —”</p><p>“DON’T LIE!” bellowed Black. “YOU’D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LESLIE AND JANE DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!”</p><p>“He — he was taking over everywhere!” gasped Pettigrew. “Wh — what was there to be gained by refusing him?”</p><p>“What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?” said Black, with a terribly fury in her face. “Only innocent lives, Petunia!”</p><p>“You don’t understand!” whined Pettigrew. “He would have killed me, Siri!”</p><p>“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!” roared Black. “DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!”</p><p>Black and Howell stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised.</p><p>“You should have realized,” said Howell quietly, “if Voldemort didn’t kill you, we would. Good-bye, Petunia.”</p><p>Hermes covered his face with his hands and turned to the wall.</p><p>“NO!” Harriet yelled. She ran forward, placing herself in front of Pettigrew, facing the wands. “You can’t kill her,” she said breathlessly. “You can’t.”</p><p>Black and Howell both looked staggered.</p><p>“Harriet, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents,” Black snarled. “This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard her. Her own stinking skin meant more to her than your whole family.”</p><p>“I know,” Harriet panted. “We’ll take her up to the castle. We’ll hand her over to the dementors... She can go to Azkaban... but don’t kill her.”</p><p>“Harriet!” gasped Pettigrew, and she flung her arms around Harriet’s knees. “You — thank you — it’s more than I deserve — thank you —”</p><p>“Get off me,” Harriet spat, throwing Pettigrew’s hands off her in disgust. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it because — I don’t reckon my mum would’ve wanted them to become killers — just for you.”</p><p>No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as she clutched her chest. Black and Howell were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.</p><p>“You’re the only person who has the right to decide, Harriet,” said Black. “But think... think what she did...”</p><p>“She can go to Azkaban,” Harriet repeated. “If anyone deserves that place, she does...”</p><p>Pettigrew was still wheezing behind her.</p><p>“Very well,” said Howell. “Stand aside, Harriet.”</p><p>Harriet hesitated.</p><p>“I’m going to tie him up,” said Howell. “That’s all, I swear.” Harriet stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Howell’s wand this time, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged.</p><p>“But if you transform, Petunia,” growled Black, her own wand pointing at Pettigrew too, “we will kill you. You agree, Harriet?”</p><p>Harriet looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor and nodded so that Pettigrew could see her.</p><p>“Right,” said Howell, suddenly businesslike. “Ronnie, I can’t mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it’s best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing.”</p><p>She hurried over to Ronnie, bent down, tapped Ronnie’s leg with her wand, and muttered, “Ferula.” Bandages spun up Ronnie’s leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Howell helped her to her feet; Ronnie put her weight gingerly on the leg and didn’t wince.</p><p>“That’s better,” she said. “Thanks.”<br/>“What about Professor Prince?” said Hermes in a small voice, looking down at Prince’s prone figure.</p><p>“There’s nothing seriously wrong with her,” said Howell, bending over Prince and checking her pulse. “You were just a little - overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er — perhaps it will be best if we don’t revive her until we’re safely back in the castle. We can take her like this...”</p><p>She muttered, “Mobilicorpus.” As though invisible strings were tied to Prince’s wrists, neck, and knees, she was pulled into a stand- ing position, head still lolling unpleasantly, like a grotesque puppet. She hung a few inches above the ground, her limp feet dangling. Howell picked up the Invisibility Cloak and tucked it safely into her pocket.</p><p>“And two of us should be chained to this,” said Black, nudging Pettigrew with her toe. “Just to make sure.”</p><p>“I’ll do it,” said Howell.</p><p>“And me,” said Ronnie savagely, limping forward.</p><p>Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Howell’s right, right arm to Ronnie’s left. Ronnie’s face was set. She seemed to have taken Scabbers’s true identity as a personal insult. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held jauntily high.</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. The Dementor’s Kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harriet had never been part of a stranger group. Crookshanks led the way down the stairs; Howell, Pettigrew, and Ronnie went next, looking like entrants in a six-legged race. Next came Professor Prince, drifting creepily along, her toes hitting each stair as they descended, held up by her own wand, which was being pointed at her by Siri. Harriet and Hermes brought up the rear.</p><p>Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. Howell, Pettigrew, and Ronnie had to turn sideways to manage it; Howell still had Pettigrew covered with her wand. Harriet could see them edging awkwardly along the tunnel in single file. Crookshanks was still in the lead. Harriet went right after Black, who was still making Prince drift along ahead of them; she kept bumping her lolling head on the low ceiling. Harriet had the impression Black was making no effort to prevent this.</p><p>“You know what this means?” Black said abruptly to Harriet as they made their slow progress along the tunnel. “Turning Pettigrew in?”</p><p>“You’re free,” said Harriet.</p><p>“Yes...” said Black. “But I’m also — I don’t know if anyone ever told you — I’m your godmother.”</p><p>“Yeah, I knew that,” said Harriet.</p><p>“Well... your parents appointed me your guardian,” said Black stiffly. “If anything happened to them...”</p><p>Harriet waited. Did Black mean what she thought she meant?</p><p>“I’ll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle,” said Black. “But... well... think about it. Once my name’s cleared... if you wanted a... a different home...”</p><p>Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Harriet’s stomach.</p><p>“What — live with you?” she said, accidentally cracking her head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. “Leave the Evans’?” </p><p>“Of course, I thought you wouldn’t want to,” said Black quickly. “I understand, I just thought I’d —”</p><p>“Are you insane?” said Harriet, her voice easily as croaky as Black’s. “Of course I want to leave the Evans’! Have you got a house? When can I move in?”</p><p>Black turned right around to look at her; Prince’s head was scraping the ceiling but Black didn’t seem to care.</p><p>“You want to?” she said. “You mean it?”</p><p>“Yeah, I mean it!” said Harriet.</p><p>Black’s gaunt face broke into the first true smile Harriet had seen upon it. The difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger were shining through the starved mask; for a moment, she was recognizable as the woman who had laughed at Harriet’s parents’ wedding.</p><p>They did not speak again until they had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Howell, Pettigrew, and Ronnie clambered upward without any sound of savaging branches.</p><p>Black saw Prince up through the hole, then stood back for Harriet and Hermes to pass. At last, all of them were out.</p><p>The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering. Harriet’s mind was buzzing. She was going to leave the Evans’. She was going to live with Siri Black, her parents’ best friend... She felt dazed... What would happen when she told the Evans’ she was going to live with the convict they’d seen on television...!</p><p>“One wrong move, Petunia,” said Howell threateningly ahead. Her wand was still pointed sideways at Pettigrew’s chest.</p><p>Silently they tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. Prince was still drifting weirdly ahead of Black, her chin bumping on her chest. And then —</p><p>A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight.</p><p>Prince collided with Howell, Pettigrew, and Ronnie, who had stopped abruptly. Black froze. She flung out one arm to make Harriet and Hermes stop.</p><p>Harriet could see Howell’s silhouette. She had gone rigid. Then her limbs began to shake.</p><p>“Oh, my —” Hermes gasped. “She didn’t take her potion tonight! She’s not safe!”</p><p>“Run,” Black whispered. “Run. Now.”</p><p>But Harriet couldn’t run. Ronnie was chained to Pettigrew and Howell. She leapt forward but Black caught her around the chest and threw her back.</p><p>“Leave it to me — RUN!”</p><p>There was a terrible snarling noise. Howell’s head was lengthening. So was her body. Her shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on her face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks’s hair was on end again; she was backing away —</p><p>As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Siri disappeared from Harriet’s side. She had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ronnie and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other —</p><p>Harriet stood, transfixed by the sight, too intent upon the battle to notice anything else. It was Hermes’ scream that alerted her —</p><p>Pettigrew had dived for Howell’s dropped wand. Ronnie, unsteady on her bandaged leg, fell. There was a bang, a burst of light — and Ronnie lay motionless on the ground. Another bang — Crookshanks flew into the air and back to the earth in a heap.</p><p>“Expelliarmus!” Harriet yelled, pointing her own wand at Pettigrew; Howell’s wand flew high into the air and out of sight. “Stay where you are!” Harriet shouted, running forward.</p><p>Too late. Pettigrew had transformed. Harriet saw her bald tail whip through the manacle on Ronnie’s outstretched arm and heard a scurrying through the grass.</p><p>There was a howl and a rumbling growl; Harriet turned to see the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the forest —</p><p>“Siri, she’s gone, Pettigrew transformed!” Harriet yelled.</p><p>Black was bleeding; there were gashes across her muzzle and back, but at Harriet’s words she scrambled up again, and in an instant, the sound of her paws faded to silence as she pounded away across the grounds.</p><p>Harriet and Hermes dashed over to Ronnie.</p><p>“What did she do to her?” Hermes whispered. Ronnie’s eyes were only half-closed, her mouth hung open; she was definitely alive, they could hear her breathing, but she didn’t seem to recognize them.</p><p>“I don’t know...”</p><p>Harriet looked desperately around. Black and Howell both gone... they had no one but Prince for company, still hanging, unconscious, in midair.</p><p>“We’d better get them up to the castle and tell someone,” said Harriet, pushing her hair out of her eyes, trying to think straight. Come —”</p><p>But then, from beyond the range of their vision, they heard a yelping, a whining: a dog in pain...</p><p>“Siri,” Harriet muttered, staring into the darkness.</p><p>She had a moment’s indecision, but there was nothing they could do for Ronnie at the moment, and by the sound of it, Black was in trouble —</p><p>Harriet set off at a run, Hermes right behind her. The yelping seemed to be coming from the ground near the edge of the lake. They pelted toward it, and Harriet, running flat out, felt the cold without realizing what it must mean —</p><p>The yelping stopped abruptly. As they reached the lakeshore, they saw why — Siri had turned back into a woman. She was crouched on all fours, her hands over her head.</p><p>“Nooo,” she moaned. “Noooo... please....”</p><p>And then Harriet saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake toward them. She spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating her insides, fog starting to obscure her vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling them...</p><p>“Hermes, think of something happy!” Harriet yelled, raising her wand, blinking furiously to try and clear her vision, shaking her head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it —</p><p>I’m going to live with my godmother. I’m leaving the Evans’.</p><p>She forced herself to think of Black, and only Black, and began to chant: “Expecto patronum! Expecto patronum!”</p><p>Black gave a shudder, rolled over, and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death.</p><p>She’ll be all right. I’m going to go and live with her.</p><p>“Expecto patronum! Hermes, help me! Expecto patronum!” </p><p>“Expecto —” Hermes whispered, “expecto — expecto —”</p><p>But he couldn’t do it. The dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. They formed a solid wall around Harriet and Hermes, and were getting closer...</p><p>“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Harriet yelled, trying to blot the screaming from her ears. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!”</p><p>A thin wisp of silver escaped her wand and hovered like mist before her. At the same moment, Harriet felt Hermes collapse next to her. She was alone.. completely alone...</p><p>“Expecto — expecto patronum —”</p><p>Harriet felt her knees hit the cold grass. Fog was clouding her eyes. With a huge effort, she fought to remember — Siri was innocent — innocent — We’ll be okay — I’m going to live with her —</p><p>“Expecto patronum!” she gasped. </p><p>By the feeble light of gee formless Patronus, she saw a dementor halt, very close to her. It couldn’t walk through the cloud of silver mist Harriet had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the Patronus aside.</p><p>“No — no —” Harriet gasped. “She’s innocent... expecto — expecto patronum —”</p><p>She could feel them watching her, hear their rattling breath like an evil wind around her. The nearest dementor seemed to be considering her. Then it raised both its rotting hands — and lowered its hood.</p><p>Where there should have been eyes, there was only thin, gray scabbed skin, stretched blankly over empty sockets. But there was a mouth... a gaping, shapeless hole, sucking the air with the sound of a death rattle.</p><p>A paralyzing terror filled Harriet so that she couldn’t move or speak. Her Patronus flickered and died.</p><p>White fog was blinding her. She had to fight... expecto patronum... he couldn’t see... and in the distance, she heard the familiar screaming... expecto patronum... she groped in the mist for Siri, and found her arm... they weren’t going to take her...</p><p>But a pair of strong, clammy hands suddenly attached themselves around Harriet’s neck. They were forcing her face upward... She could feel its breath... It was going to get rid of her first... She could feel its putrid breath... Her father was screaming in her ears... He was going to be the last thing she ever heard —</p><p>And then, through the fog that was drowning her, she thought she saw a silvery light growing brighter and brighter... She felt herself fall forward onto the grass... Facedown, too weak to move, sick and shaking, Harriet opened her eyes. The dementor must have released her. The blinding light was illuminating the grass around her... The screaming had stopped, the cold was ebbing away...</p><p>Something was driving the dementors back... It was circling around her and Black and Hermes... They were leaving... The air was warm again...</p><p>With every ounce of strength she could muster, Harriet raised her head a few inches and saw an animal amid the light, galloping away across the lake... Eyes blurred with sweat, Harriet tried to make out what it was... It was as bright as a unicorn... Fighting to stay conscious, Harriet watched it canter to a halt as it reached the opposite shore. For a moment, Harriet saw, by its brightness, somebody welcoming it back... raising her hand to pat it... someone who looked strangely familiar... but it couldn’t be...</p><p>Harriet didn’t understand. She couldn’t think anymore. She felt the last of her strength leave her, and her head hit the ground as she fainted.</p>
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<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Hermione’s Secret</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shocking business... shocking... miracle none of them died... never heard the like... by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Prince...”</p><p>“Thank you, Minister.”</p><p>“Order of Merlin, Second Class, I’d say. First Class, if I can wangle it!”</p><p>“Thank you very much indeed, Minister.”</p><p>“Nasty cut you’ve got there... Black’s work, I suppose?”</p><p>“As a matter of fact, it was Evans, Prewett, and Granger, Minister...” </p><p>“No!”</p><p>“Black had bewitched them, I saw it immediately. A Confundus Charm, to judge by their behavior. They seemed to think there was a possibility she was innocent. They weren’t responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Black to escape... They obviously thought they were going to catch Black single-handed. They’ve got away with a great deal before now... I’m afraid it’s given them a rather high opinion of themselves... and of course Evans has always been allowed an extraordinary amount of license by the headmistress —”</p><p>“Ah, well, Prince... Harriet Evans, you know... we’ve all got a bit of a blind spot where she’s concerned.”</p><p>“And yet — is it good for her to be given so much special treatment? Personally, I try and treat her like any other student. And any other student would be suspended — at the very least — for leading her friends into such danger. Consider, Minister — against all school rules — after all the precautions put in place for her protection — out-of-bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer — and I have reason to believe she has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally too —”</p><p>“Well, well... we shall see, Prince, we shall see... The girl has undoubtedly been foolish...”</p><p>Harriet lay listening with her eyes tight shut. She felt very groggy. The words she was hearing seemed to be traveling very slowly from her ears to her brain, so that it was difficult to understand... Her limbs felt like lead; her eyelids too heavy to lift... She wanted to lie here, on this comfortable bed, forever...</p><p>“What amazes me most is the behavior of the dementors... you’ve really no idea what made them retreat, Prince?”</p><p>“No, Minister... by the time I had come ’round they were heading back to their positions at the entrances...”</p><p>“Extraordinary. And yet Black, and Harriet, and the boy —”</p><p>“All unconscious by the time I reached them. I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers, and brought them all straight back to the castle.”</p><p>There was a pause. Harriet’s brain seemed to be moving a little faster, and as it did, a gnawing sensation grew in the pit of her stomach...</p><p>She opened her eyes.</p><p>Everything was slightly blurred. Somebody had removed her glasses. She was lying in the dark hospital wing. At the very end of the ward, she could make out Master Pomfrey with his back to her, bending over a bed. Harriet squinted. Ronnie’s red hair was visible beneath Master Pomfrey’s arm.</p><p>Harriet moved her head over on the pillow. In the bed to her right lay Hermes. Moonlight was falling across his bed. His eyes were open too. He looked petrified, and when he saw that Harriet was awake, pressed a finger to his lips, then pointed to the hospital wing door. It was ajar, and the voices of Cornetta Fudge and Prince were coming through it from the corridor outside.</p><p>Master Pomfrey now came walking briskly up the dark ward to Harriet’s bed. She turned to look at him. He was carrying the largest block of chocolate she had ever seen in her life. It looked like a small boulder.</p><p>“Ah, you’re awake!” he said briskly. He placed the chocolate on Harriet’s bedside table and began breaking it apart with a small hammer.</p><p>“How’s Ronnie?” said Harriet and Hermes together.</p><p>“She’ll live,” said Master Pomfrey grimly. “As for you two... you’ll be staying here until I’m satisfied you’re — Evans, what do you think you’re doing?”</p><p>Harriet was sitting up, putting her glasses back on, and picking up her wand.</p><p>“I need to see the headmaster,” she said.</p><p>“Evans,” said Master Pomfrey soothingly, “it’s all right. They’ve got Black. She’s locked away upstairs. The dementors will be performing the kiss any moment now —”</p><p>“WHAT?”</p><p>Harriet jumped up out of bed; Hermes had done the same. But her shout had been heard in the corridor outside; next second, Cornetta Fudge and Prince had entered the ward.</p><p>“Harriet, Harriet, what’s this?” said Fudge, looking agitated. “You should be in bed — has she had any chocolate?” she asked Master Pomfrey anxiously.</p><p>“Minister, listen!” Harriet said. “Siri Black’s innocent! Petunia Pettigrew faked her own death! We saw her tonight! You can’t let the dementors do that thing to Siri, she’s —”</p><p>But Fudge was shaking her head with a small smile on her face.</p><p>“Harriet, Harriet, you’re very confused, you’ve been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we’ve got everything under control...”</p><p>“YOU HAVEN’T!” Harriet yelled. “YOU’VE GOT THE WRONG WOMAN!”</p><p>“Minister, listen, please,” Hermes said; he had hurried to Harriet’s side and was gazing imploringly into Fudge’s face. “I saw her too. It was Ronnie’s rat, she’s an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and —”</p><p>“You see, Minister?” said Prince. “Confunded, both of them... Black’s done a very good job on them...”</p><p>“WE’RE NOT CONFUNDED!” Harriet roared.</p><p>“Minister! Professor!” said Master Pomfrey angrily. “I must insist that you leave. Evans is my patient, and she should not be distressed!”</p><p>“I’m not distressed, I’m trying to tell them what happened!” Harriet said furiously. “If they’d just listen —”</p><p>But Master Pomfrey suddenly stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into Harriet’s mouth; she choked, and he seized the opportunity to force her back onto the bed.</p><p>“Now, please, Minister, these children need care. Please leave —”</p><p>The door opened again. It was Dumbledore. Harriet swallowed her mouthful of chocolate with great difficulty and got up again.</p><p>“Professor Dumbledore, Siri Black —”</p><p>“For heaven’s sake!” said Master Pomfrey hysterically. “Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmistress, I must insist —”</p><p>“My apologies, Peter, but I need a word with Miss Evans and Mr. Granger,” said Dumbledore calmly. “I have just been talking to Siri Black —”</p><p>“I suppose she’s told you the same fairy tale she’s planted in Evans’ mind?” spat Prince. “Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive —”</p><p>“That, indeed, is Black’s story,” said Dumbledore, surveying Prince closely through her half-moon spectacles.</p><p>“And does my evidence count for nothing?” snarled Prince. “Petunia Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of her on the grounds.”</p><p>“That was because you were knocked out, Professor!” said Hermes earnestly. “You didn’t arrive in time to hear —”</p><p>“Mr. Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!”</p><p>“Now, Prince,” said Fudge, startled, “the young man is disturbed in his mind, we must make allowances —”</p><p>“I would like to speak to Harriet and Hermes alone,” said Dumbledore abruptly. “Cornetta, Stevanie, Peter — please leave us.”</p><p>“Headmistress!” sputtered Master Pomfrey “They need treatment, they need rest —”</p><p>“This cannot wait,” said Dumbledore. “I must insist.”</p><p>Master Pomfrey pursed his lips and strode away into his office at the end of the ward, slamming the door behind him. Fudge consulted the large gold pocket watch dangling from her waistcoat.</p><p>“The dementors should have arrived by now,” she said. “I’ll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I’ll see you upstairs.”</p><p>She crossed to the door and held it open for Prince, but Prince hadn’t moved.</p><p>“You surely don’t believe a word of Black’s story?” Prince whispered, her eyes fixed on Dumbledore’s face.</p><p>“I wish to speak to Harriet and Hermes alone,” Dumbledore repeated.</p><p>Prince took a step toward Dumbledore.</p><p>“Siri Black showed she was capable of murder at the age of sixteen,” she breathed. “You haven’t forgotten that, Headmistress? You haven’t forgotten that she once tried to kill me?”</p><p>“My memory is as good as it ever was, Stevanie,” said Dumbledore quietly.</p><p>Prince turned on her heel and marched through the door Fudge was still holding. It closed behind them, and Dumbledore turned to Harriet and Hermes. They both burst into speech at the same time.</p><p>“Professor, Black’s telling the truth — we saw Pettigrew —” </p><p>“— she escaped when Professor Howell turned into a werewolf —” </p><p>“— she’s a rat —”</p><p>“— Pettigrew’s front paw, I mean, finger, she cut it off —”</p><p>“— Pettigrew attacked Ronnie, it wasn’t Siri —”</p><p>But Dumbledore held up her hand to stem the flood of explanations.</p><p>“It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time,” she said quietly. “There is not a shred of proof to support Black’s story, except your word — and the word of two thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Siri murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Siri had been the Evans’ Secret-Keeper.”</p><p>“Professor Howell can tell you —” Harriet said, unable to stop herself.</p><p>“Professor Howell is currently deep in the forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time she is human again, it will be too late, Siri will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that her support will count for very little — and the fact that she and Siri are old friends —”</p><p>“But —”</p><p>“Listen to me, Harriet. It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Prince’s version of events is far more convincing than yours.”</p><p>“She hates Siri,” Hermes said desperately. “All because of some stupid trick Siri played on her —”</p><p>“Siri has not acted like an innocent woman. The attack on the Fat Lady — entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife — without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Siri’s sentence.”</p><p>“But you believe us.”</p><p>“Yes, I do,” said Dumbledore quietly. “But I have no power to make other women see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic...”</p><p>Harriet stared up into the grave face and felt as though the ground beneath her were falling sharply away. She had grown used to the idea that Dumbledore could solve anything. She had expected Dumbledore to pull some amazing solution out of the air. But no... their last hope was gone.</p><p>“What we need,” said Dumbledore slowly, and her light blue eyes moved from Harriet to Hermes, “is more time.”</p><p>“But —” Hermes began. And then his eyes became very round. “OH!”</p><p>“Now, pay attention,” said Dumbledore, speaking very low, and very clearly. “Siri is locked in Professor Flitwick’s office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this, both of you: you must not be seen. Mr. Granger, you know the law — you know what is at stake... You — must — not — be — seen.”</p><p>Harriet didn’t have a clue what was going on. Dumbledore had turned on her heel and looked back as she reached the door.</p><p>“I am going to lock you in. It is —” she consulted her watch, “five minutes to midnight. Mr. Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck.”</p><p>“Good luck?” Harriet repeated as the door closed behind Dumbledore. “Three turns? What’s she talking about? What are we supposed to do?”</p><p>But Hermes was fumbling with the neck of his robes, pulling from beneath them a very long, very fine gold chain.</p><p>“Harriet, come here,” he said urgently. “Quick!”</p><p>Harriet moved toward him, completely bewildered. He was holding the chain out. She saw a tiny, sparkling hourglass hanging from it.</p><p>“Here —”</p><p>He had thrown the chain around her neck too.</p><p>“Ready?” he said breathlessly.</p><p>“What are we doing?” Harriet said, completely lost.</p><p>Hermes turned the hourglass over three times.</p><p>The dark ward dissolved. Harriet had the sensation that she was flying very fast, backward. A blur of colors and shapes rushed past her, her ears were pounding, she tried to yell but couldn’t hear her own voice —</p><p>And then she felt solid ground beneath her feet, and everything came into focus again —</p><p>She was standing next to Hermes in the deserted entrance hall and a stream of golden sunlight was falling across the paved floor from the open front doors. She looked wildly around at Hermes, the chain of the hourglass cutting into her neck.</p><p>“Hermes, what — ?”</p><p>“In here!” Hermes seized Harriet’s arm and dragged her across the hall to the door of a broom closet; he opened it, pushed her inside among the buckets and mops, then slammed the door behind them.</p><p>“What — how — Hermes, what happened?”</p><p>“We’ve gone back in time,” Hermes whispered, lifting the chain off Harriet’s neck in the darkness. “Three hours back...”</p><p>Harriet found her own leg and gave it a very hard pinch. It hurt a lot, which seemed to rule out the possibility that she was having a very bizarre dream.</p><p>“But —”</p><p>“Shh! Listen! Someone’s coming! I think — I think it might be us!”</p><p>Hermes had his ear pressed against the cupboard door.</p><p>“Footsteps across the hall... yes, I think it’s us going down to Hagrid’s!”</p><p>“Are you telling me,” Harriet whispered, “that we’re here in this cupboard and we’re out there too?”</p><p>“Yes,” said Hermes, his ear still glued to the cupboard door. “I’m sure it’s us. It doesn’t sound like more than three people... and we’re walking slowly because we’re under the Invisibility Cloak —”</p><p>He broke off, still listening intently.</p><p>“We’ve gone down the front steps...”</p><p>Hermes sat down on an upturned bucket, looking desperately anxious, but Harriet wanted a few questions answered.</p><p>“Where did you get that hourglass thing?”</p><p>“It’s called a Time-Turner,” Hermes whispered, “and I got it from Professor McGonagall on our first day back. I’ve been using it all year to get to all my lessons. Professor McGonagall made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone. He had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry of Magic so I could have one. He had to tell them that I was a model student, and that I’d never, ever use it for anything except my studies... I’ve been turning it back so I could do hours over again, that’s how I’ve been doing several lessons at once, see? But...</p><p>“Harriet, I don’t understand what Dumbledore wants us to do. Why did she tell us to go back three hours? How’s that going to help Siri?”</p><p>Harriet stared at his shadowy face.</p><p>“There must be something that happened around now she wants us to change,” she said slowly. “What happened? We were walking down to Hagrid’s three hours ago...”</p><p>“This is three hours ago, and we are walking down to Hagrid’s,” said Hermes. “We just heard ourselves leaving...”</p><p>Harriet frowned; she felt as though she were screwing up her whole brain in concentration.</p><p>“Dumbledore just said — just said we could save more than one innocent life...” And then it hit her. “Hermes, we’re going to save Buckbeak!”</p><p>“But — how will that help Siri?”</p><p>“Dumbledore said — she just told us where the window is — the window of Flitwick’s office! Where they’ve got Siri locked up! We’ve got to fly Buckbeak up to the window and rescue Siri! Siri can escape on Buckbeak — they can escape together!”</p><p>From what Harriet could see of Hermes’ face, he looked terrified.</p><p>“If we manage that without being seen, it’ll be a miracle!”</p><p>“Well, we’ve got to try, haven’t we?” said Harriet. She stood up and pressed her ear against the door.</p><p>“Doesn’t sound like anyone’s there... Come on, let’s go...”</p><p>Harriet pushed open the closet door. The entrance hall was deserted. As quietly and quickly as they could, they darted out of the closet and down the stone steps. The shadows were already lengthening, the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest gilded once more with gold.</p><p>“If anyone’s looking out of the window —” Hermes squeaked, looking up at the castle behind them.</p><p>“We’ll run for it,” said Harriet determinedly. “Straight into the forest, all right? We’ll have to hide behind a tree or something and keep a lookout —”</p><p>“Okay, but we’ll go around by the greenhouses!” said Hermes breathlessly. “We need to keep out of sight of Hagrid’s front door, or we’ll see us! We must be nearly at Hagrid’s by now!”</p><p>Still working out what he meant, Harriet set off at a sprint, Hermes behind her. They tore across the vegetable gardens to the greenhouses, paused for a moment behind them, then set off again, fast as they could, skirting around the Whomping Willow, tearing toward the shelter of the forest...</p><p>Safe in the shadows of the trees, Harriet turned around; seconds later, Hermes arrived beside her, panting.</p><p>“Right,” he gasped. “We need to sneak over to Hagrid’s... Keep out of sight, Harriet...”</p><p>They made their way silently through the trees, keeping to the very edge of the forest. Then, as they glimpsed the front of Hagrid’s house, they heard a knock upon her door. They moved quickly behind a wide oak trunk and peered out from either side. Hagrid had appeared in her doorway, shaking and white, looking around to see who had knocked. And Harriet heard her own voice.</p><p>“It’s us. We’re wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off.”</p><p>“Yeh shouldn’ve come!” Hagrid whispered. She stood back, then shut the door quickly.</p><p>“This is the weirdest thing we’ve ever done,” Harriet said fervently.</p><p>“Let’s move along a bit,” Hermes whispered. “We need to get nearer to Buckbeak!”</p><p>They crept through the trees until they saw the nervous hippogriff, tethered to the fence around Hagrid’s pumpkin patch.</p><p>“Now?” Harriet whispered.</p><p>“No!” said Hermes. “If we steal him now, those Committee people will think Hagrid set him free! We’ve got to wait until they’ve seen he’s tied outside!”</p><p>“That’s going to give us about sixty seconds,” said Harriet. This was starting to seem impossible.</p><p>At that moment, there was a crash of breaking china from inside Hagrid’s cabin.</p><p>“That’s Hagrid breaking the milk jug,” Hermes whispered. “I’m going to find Scabbers in a moment —”</p><p>Sure enough, a few minutes later, they heard Hermes’ shriek of surprise.</p><p>“Hermes,” said Harriet suddenly, “what if we — we just run in there and grab Pettigrew —”</p><p>“No!” said Hermes in a terrified whisper. “Don’t you understand? We’re breaking one of the most important wizarding laws! Nobody’s supposed to change time, nobody! You heard Dumbledore, if we’re seen —”</p><p>“We’d only be seen by ourselves and Hagrid!”</p><p>“Harriet, what do you think you’d do if you saw yourself bursting into Hagrid’s house?” said Hermes.</p><p>“I’d — I’d think I’d gone mad,” said Harriet, “or I’d think there was some Dark Magic going on —”</p><p>“Exactly! You wouldn’t understand, you might even attack yourself! Don’t you see? Professor McGonagall told me what awful things have happened when wizards have meddled with time. . . . Loads of them ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake!”</p><p>“Okay!” said Harriet. “It was just an idea, I just thought —”</p><p>But Hermes nudged her and pointed toward the castle. Harriet moved her head a few inches to get a clear view of the distant front doors. Dumbledore, Fudge, the old Committee member, and Macnair the executioner were coming down the steps.</p><p>“We’re about to come out!” Hermes breathed.</p><p>And sure enough, moments later, Hagrid’s back door opened, and Harriet saw herself, Ronnie, and Hermes walking out of it with Hagrid. It was, without a doubt, the strangest sensation of her life, standing behind the tree, and watching herself in the pumpkin patch.</p><p>“It’s okay, Beaky, it’s okay...” Hagrid said to Buckbeak. Then she turned to Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes. “Go on. Get goin’.”</p><p>“Hagrid, we can’t —”</p><p>“We’ll tell them what really happened —”</p><p>“They can’t kill him —”</p><p>“Go! It’s bad enough without you lot in trouble an’ all!”</p><p>Harriet watched the Hermes in the pumpkin patch throw the Invisibility Cloak over her and Ronnie. “Go quick. Don’ listen...”</p><p>There was a knock on Hagrid’s front door. The execution party had arrived. Hagrid turned around and headed back into her cabin, leaving the back door ajar. Harriet watched the grass flatten in patches all around the cabin and heard three pairs of feet retreating. She, Ronnie, and Hermes had gone... but the Harriet and Hermes hidden in the trees could now hear what was happening inside the cabin through the back door.</p><p>“Where is the beast?” came the cold voice of Macnair.</p><p>“Out — outside,” Hagrid croaked.</p><p>Harriet pulled her head out of sight as Macnair’s face appeared at Hagrid’s window, staring out at Buckbeak. Then they heard Fudge. “We — er — have to read you the official notice of execution, Hagrid. I’ll make it quick. And then you and Macnair need to sign<br/>it. Macnair, you’re supposed to listen too, that’s procedure —” Macnair’s face vanished from the window. It was now or never. </p><p>“Wait here,” Harriet whispered to Hermes. “I’ll do it.”</p><p>As Fudge’s voice started again, Harriet darted out from behind her tree, vaulted the fence into the pumpkin patch, and approached Buckbeak.</p><p>“It is the decision of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures that the hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter called the condemned, shall be executed on the sixth of June at sundown —”</p><p>Careful not to blink, Harriet stared up into Buckbeak’s fierce orange eyes once more and bowed. Buckbeak sank to his scaly knees and then stood up again. Harriet began to fumble with the knot of rope tying Buckbeak to the fence.</p><p>“...sentenced to execution by beheading, to be carried out by the Committee’s appointed executioner, Wanda Macnair...”</p><p>“Come on, Buckbeak,” Harriet murmured, “come on, we’re going to help you. Quietly... quietly...”</p><p>“...as witnessed below. Hagrid, you sign here...”</p><p>Harriet threw all her weight onto the rope, but Buckbeak had dug in her front feet.</p><p>“Well, let’s get this over with,” said the reedy voice of the Committee member from inside Hagrid’s cabin. “Hagrid, perhaps it will be better if you stay inside —”</p><p>“No, I — I wan’ ter be with him... I don’ wan’ him ter be alone —”</p><p>Footsteps echoed from within the cabin.</p><p>“Buckbeak, move!” Harriet hissed.</p><p>Harriet tugged harder on the rope around Buckbeak’s neck. The hippogriff began to walk, rustling its wings irritably. They were still ten feet away from the forest, in plain view of Hagrid’s back door. </p><p>“One moment, please, Macnair,” came Dumbledore’s voice. “You need to sign too.” The footsteps stopped. Harriet heaved on the rope. Buckbeak snapped his beak and walked a little faster. Hermes’ white face was sticking out from behind a tree. “Harriet, hurry!” he mouthed.</p><p>Harriet could still hear Dumbledore’s voice talking from within the cabin. She gave the rope another wrench. Buckbeak broke into a grudging trot. They had reached the trees...</p><p>“Quick! Quick!” Hermes moaned, darting out from behind his tree, seizing the rope too and adding his weight to make Buckbeak move faster. Harriet looked over her shoulder; they were now blocked from sight; they couldn’t see Hagrid’s garden at all.</p><p>“Stop!” she whispered to Hermes. “They might hear us —”</p><p>Hagrid’s back door had opened with a bang. Harriet, Hermes, and Buckbeak stood quite still; even the hippogriff seemed to be listening intently.</p><p>Silence... then —</p><p>“Where is it?” said the reedy voice of the Committee member. “Where is the beast?”</p><p>“It was tied here!” said the executioner furiously. “I saw it! Just here!”</p><p>“How extraordinary,” said Dumbledore. There was a note of amusement in her voice.</p><p>“Beaky!” said Hagrid huskily.</p><p>There was a swishing noise, and the thud of an axe. The executioner seemed to have swung it into the fence in anger. And then came the howling, and this time they could hear Hagrid’s words through her sobs.</p><p>“Gone! Gone! Bless his little beak, he’s gone! Musta pulled himself free! Beaky, yeh clever boy!”</p><p>Buckbeak started to strain against the rope, trying to get back to Hagrid. Harriet and Hermes tightened their grip and dug their heels into the forest floor to stop him.</p><p>“Someone untied him!” the executioner was snarling. “We should search the grounds, the forest —”</p><p>“Macnair, if Buckbeak has indeed been stolen, do you really think the thief will have led him away on foot?” said Dumbledore, still sounding amused. “Search the skies, if you will... Hagrid, I could do with a cup of tea. Or a large brandy.”</p><p>“O’ — o’ course, Professor,” said Hagrid, who sounded weak with happiness. “Come in, come in...”</p><p>Harriet and Hermes listened closely. They heard footsteps, the soft cursing of the executioner, the snap of the door, and then silence once more.</p><p>“Now what?” whispered Harriet, looking around.</p><p>“We’ll have to hide in here,” said Hermes, who looked very shaken. “We need to wait until they’ve gone back to the castle. Then we wait until it’s safe to fly Buckbeak up to Siri’s window. She won’t be there for another couple of hours... Oh, this is going to be difficult...”</p><p>He looked nervously over his shoulder into the depths of the forest. The sun was setting now.</p><p>“We’re going to have to move,” said Harriet, thinking hard. “We’ve got to be able to see the Whomping Willow, or we won’t know what’s going on.”</p><p>“Okay,” said Hermes, getting a firmer grip on Buckbeak’s rope. “But we’ve got to keep out of sight, Harriet, remember...” </p><p>They moved around the edge of the forest, darkness falling thickly around them, until they were hidden behind a clump of trees through which they could make out the Willow.</p><p>“There’s Ronnie!” said Harriet suddenly.</p><p>A dark figure was sprinting across the lawn and its shout echoed through the still night air.</p><p>“Get away from him — get away — Scabbers, come here —”</p><p>And then they saw two more figures materialize out of nowhere. Harriet watched herself and Hermes chasing after Ronnie. Then she saw Ronnie dive.</p><p>“Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —”</p><p>“There’s Siri!” said Harriet. The great shape of the dog had bounded out from the roots of the Willow. They saw her bowl Harriet over, then seize Ronnie...</p><p>“Looks even worse from here, doesn’t it?” said Harriet, watching the dog pulling Ronnie into the roots. “Ouch — look, I just got walloped by the tree — and so did you — this is weird —”</p><p>The Whomping Willow was creaking and lashing out with its lower branches; they could see themselves darting here and there, trying to reach the trunk. And then the tree froze.</p><p>“That was Crookshanks pressing the knot,” said Hermes. </p><p>“And there we go...” Harriet muttered. “We’re in.”</p><p>The moment they disappeared, the tree began to move again.</p><p>Seconds later, they heard footsteps quite close by. Dumbledore, Macnair, Fudge, and the old Committee member were making their way up to the castle.</p><p>“Right after we’d gone down into the passage!” said Hermes. “If only Dumbledore had come with us...”</p><p>“Macnair and Fudge would’ve come too,” said Harriet bitterly. “I bet you anything Fudge would’ve told Macnair to murder Siri on the spot...”</p><p>They watched the four women climb the castle steps and disappear from view. For a few minutes the scene was deserted. Then —</p><p>“Here comes Howell!” said Harriet as they saw another figure sprinting down the stone steps and haring toward the Willow. Harriet looked up at the sky. Clouds were obscuring the moon completely.</p><p>They watched Howell seize a broken branch from the ground and prod the knot on the trunk. The tree stopped fighting, and Howell, too, disappeared into the gap in its roots.</p><p>“If she’d only grabbed the cloak,” said Harriet. “It’s just lying there...”</p><p>She turned to Hermes.</p><p>“If I just dashed out now and grabbed it, Prince’d never be able to get it and —”</p><p>“Harriet, we mustn’t be seen!”</p><p>“How can you stand this?” she asked Hermes fiercely. “Just standing here and watching it happen?” She hesitated. “I’m going to grab the cloak!”</p><p>“Harriet, no!”</p><p>Hermes seized the back of Harriet’s robes not a moment too soon. Just then, they heard a burst of song. It was Hagrid, making her way up to the castle, singing at the top of her voice, and weaving slightly as she walked. A large bottle was swinging from her hands.</p><p>“See?” Hermes whispered. “See what would have happened? We’ve got to keep out of sight! No, Buckbeak!”</p><p>The hippogriff was making frantic attempts to get to Hagrid again; Harriet seized his rope too, straining to hold Buckbeak back. They watched Hagrid meander tipsily up to the castle. She was gone. Buckbeak stopped fighting to get away. His head drooped sadly.<br/>Barely two minutes later, the castle doors flew open yet again, and Prince came charging out of them, running toward the Willow.</p><p>Harriet’s fists clenched as they watched Prince skid to a halt next to the tree, looking around. She grabbed the cloak and held it up. </p><p>“Get your filthy hands off it,” Harriet snarled under her breath.</p><p>“Shh!”</p><p>Prince seized the branch Howell had used to freeze the tree, prodded the knot, and vanished from view as she put on the cloak.</p><p>“So that’s it,” said Hermes quietly. “We’re all down there... and now we’ve just got to wait until we come back up again...” He took the end of Buckbeak’s rope and tied it securely around the nearest tree, then sat down on the dry ground, arms around his knees.</p><p>“Harriet, there’s something I don’t understand... Why didn’t the dementors get Siri? I remember them coming, and then I think I passed out... there were so many of them...”</p><p>Harriet sat down too. She explained what she’d seen; how, as the nearest dementor had lowered its mouth to Harriet’s, a large silver something had come galloping across the lake and forced the dementors to retreat.</p><p>Hermes’ mouth was slightly open by the time Harriet had finished.</p><p>“But what was it?”</p><p>“There’s only one thing it could have been, to make the dementors go,” said Harriet. “A real Patronus. A powerful one.”</p><p>“But who conjured it?”</p><p>Harriet didn’t say anything. She was thinking back to the person she’d seen on the other bank of the lake. She knew who she thought it had been... but how could it have been?</p><p>“Didn’t you see what they looked like?” said Hermes eagerly. “Was it one of the teachers?”</p><p>“No,” said Harriet. “She wasn’t a teacher.”</p><p>“But it must have been a really powerful witch, to drive all those dementors away... If the Patronus was shining so brightly, didn’t it light her up? Couldn’t you see — ?”</p><p>“Yeah, I saw her,” said Harriet slowly. “But... maybe I imagined it... I wasn’t thinking straight... I passed out right afterward...”</p><p>“Who did you think it was?”</p><p>“I think —” Harriet swallowed, knowing how strange this was going to sound. “I think it was my mum.”</p><p>Harriet glanced up at Hermes and saw that his mouth was fully open now. He was gazing at her with a mixture of alarm and pity.</p><p>“Harriet, your mum’s — well — dead,” he said quietly. </p><p>“I know that,” said Harriet quickly.</p><p>“You think you saw her ghost?”</p><p>“I don’t know... no... she looked solid...”</p><p>“But then —”</p><p>“Maybe I was seeing things,” said Harriet. “But... from what I could see... it looked like her... I’ve got photos of her...” </p><p>Hermes was still looking at her as though worried about her sanity.</p><p>“I know it sounds crazy,” said Harriet flatly. She turned to look at Buckbeak, who was digging his beak into the ground, apparently searching for worms. But she wasn’t really watching Buckbeak.</p><p>She was thinking about her mother and about her mother’s three oldest friends... Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs... Had all four of them been out on the grounds tonight? Wormtail had reappeared this evening when everyone had thought she was dead... Was it so impossible her mother had done the same? Had she been seeing things across the lake? The figure had been too far away to see distinctly.. yet she had felt sure, for a moment, before she’d lost consciousness...</p><p>The leaves overhead rustled faintly in the breeze. The moon drifted in and out of sight behind the shifting clouds. Hermes sat with his face turned toward the Willow, waiting.</p><p>And then, at last, after over an hour...</p><p>“Here we come!” Hermes whispered.</p><p>He and Harriet got to their feet. Buckbeak raised his head. They saw Howell, Pettigrew, and Ronnie clambering awkwardly out of the hole in the roots... followed by the unconscious Prince, drifting weirdly upward. Next came Harriet, Hermes, and Black. They all began to walk toward the castle.</p><p>Harriet’s heart was starting to beat very fast. She glanced up at the sky. Any moment now, that cloud was going to move aside and show the moon...</p><p>“Harriet,” Hermes muttered as though he knew exactly what she was thinking, “we’ve got to stay put. We mustn’t be seen. There’s nothing we can do...”</p><p>“So we’re just going to let Pettigrew escape all over again...” said Harriet quietly.</p><p>“How do you expect to find a rat in the dark?” snapped Hermes. “There’s nothing we can do! We came back to help Siri; we’re not supposed to be doing anything else!”</p><p>“All right!”</p><p>The moon slid out from behind its cloud. They saw the tiny figures across the grounds stop. Then they saw movement —</p><p>“There goes Howell,” Hermes whispered. “She’s transforming —” </p><p>“Hermes!” said Harriet suddenly. “We’ve got to move!”</p><p>“We mustn’t, I keep telling you —”</p><p>“Not to interfere! Howell’s going to run into the forest, right at us!”</p><p>Hermes gasped.</p><p>“Quick!” he moaned, dashing to untie Buckbeak. “Quick! Where are we going to go? Where are we going to hide? The dementors will be coming any moment —”</p><p>“Back to Hagrid’s!” Harriet said. “It’s empty now — come on!”</p><p>They ran as fast as they could, Buckbeak cantering along behind them. They could hear the werewolf howling behind them...</p><p>The cabin was in sight; Harriet skidded to the door, wrenched it open, and Hermes and Buckbeak flashed past her; Harriet threw herself in after them and bolted the door. Fang the boarhound barked loudly.</p><p>“Shh, Fang, it’s us!” said Hermes, hurrying over and scratching his ears to quieten him. “That was really close!” he said to Harriet.</p><p>“Yeah...”</p><p>Harriet was looking out of the window. It was much harder to see what was going on from here. Buckbeak seemed very happy to find himself back inside Hagrid’s house. He lay down in front of the fire, folded his wings contentedly, and seemed ready for a good nap.</p><p>“I think I’d better go outside again, you know,” said Harriet slowly. “I can’t see what’s going on — we won’t know when it’s time —”</p><p>Hermes looked up. His expression was suspicious.</p><p>“I’m not going to try and interfere,” said Harriet quickly. “But if we don’t see what’s going on, how’re we going to know when it’s time to rescue Siri?”</p><p>“Well... okay, then... I’ll wait here with Buckbeak... but Harriet, be careful — there’s a werewolf out there — and the dementors —”</p><p>Harriet stepped outside again and edged around the cabin. She could hear yelping in the distance. That meant the dementors were closing in on Siri... She and Hermes would be running to her any moment...</p><p>Harriet stared out toward the lake, her heart doing a kind of drumroll in her chest... Whoever had sent that Patronus would be appearing at any moment...</p><p>For a fraction of a second she stood, irresolute, in front of Hagrid’s door. You must not be seen. But she didn’t want to be seen. She wanted to do the seeing... She had to know...</p><p>And there were the dementors. They were emerging out of the darkness from every direction, gliding around the edges of the lake... They were moving away from where Harriet stood, to the opposite bank... She wouldn’t have to get near them...</p><p>Harriet began to run. She had no thought in her head except her mother... If it was her... if it really was her... she had to know, had to find out...</p><p>The lake was coming nearer and nearer, but there was no sign of anybody. On the opposite bank, she could see tiny glimmers of silver — her own attempts at a Patronus —</p><p>There was a bush at the very edge of the water. Harriet threw herself behind it, peering desperately through the leaves. On the opposite bank, the glimmers of silver were suddenly extinguished. A terrified excitement shot through her — any moment now —</p><p>“Come on!” she muttered, staring about. “Where are you? Mum, come on —”</p><p>But no one came. Harriet raised her head to look at the circle of dementors across the lake. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear — but no one was coming to help this time —</p><p>And then it hit her — she understood. She hadn’t seen her mother — she had seen herself —</p><p>Harriet flung herself out from behind the bush and pulled out her wand.</p><p>“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” she yelled.</p><p>And out of the end of her wand burst, not a shapeless cloud of mist, but a blinding, dazzling, silver animal. She screwed up her eyes, trying to see what it was. It looked like a horse. It was galloping silently away from her, across the black surface of the lake. She saw it lower its head and charge at the swarming dementors... Now it was galloping around and around the black shapes on the ground, and the dementors were falling back, scattering, retreating into the darkness... They were gone.</p><p>The Patronus turned. It was cantering back toward Harriet across the still surface of the water. It wasn’t a horse. It wasn’t a unicorn, either. It was a stag. It was shining brightly as the moon above... it was coming back to her...</p><p>It stopped on the bank. Its hooves made no mark on the soft ground as it stared at Harriet with its large, silver eyes. Slowly, it bowed its antlered head. And Harriet realised...</p><p>“Prongs,” she whispered.</p><p>But as her trembling fingertips stretched toward the creature, it vanished.</p><p>Harriet stood there, hand still outstretched. Then, with a great leap of her heart, she heard hooves behind her — she whirled around and saw Hermes dashing toward her, dragging Buckbeak behind him.</p><p>“What did you do?” he said fiercely. “You said you were only going to keep a lookout!”</p><p>“I just saved all our lives...” said Harriet. “Get behind here — behind this bush — I’ll explain.”</p><p>Hermes listened to what had just happened with his mouth open yet again.</p><p>“Did anyone see you?”</p><p>“Yes, haven’t you been listening? I saw me but I thought I was my mum! It’s okay!”</p><p>“Harry, I can’t believe it... You conjured up a Patronus that drove away all those dementors! That’s very, very advanced magic...”</p><p>“I knew I could do it this time,” said Harriet, “because I’d already done it... Does that make sense?”</p><p>“I don’t know — Harriet, look at Prince!”</p><p>Together they peered around the bush at the other bank. Prince had regained consciousness. She was conjuring stretchers and lifting the limp forms of Harriet, Hermes, and Black onto them. A fourth stretcher, no doubt bearing Ronnie, was already floating at her side. Then, wand held out in front of her, she moved them away toward the castle.</p><p>“Right, it’s nearly time,” said Hermes tensely, looking at his watch. “We’ve got about forty-five minutes until Dumbledore locks the door to the hospital wing. We’ve got to rescue Siri and get back into the ward before anybody realizes we’re missing...”</p><p>They waited, watching the moving clouds reflected in the lake, while the bush next to them whispered in the breeze. Buckbeak, bored, was ferreting for worms again.</p><p>“D’ you reckon she’s up there yet?” said Harriet, checking her watch. She looked up at the castle and began counting the windows to the right of the West Tower.</p><p>“Look!” Hermes whispered. “Who’s that? Someone’s coming back out of the castle!”</p><p>Harriet stared through the darkness. The woman was hurrying across the grounds, toward one of the entrances. Something shiny glinted in her belt.</p><p>“Macnair!” said Harriet. “The executioner! She’s gone to get the dementors! This is it, Hermes —”</p><p>Hermes put his hands on Buckbeak’s back and Harriet gave him a leg up. Then she placed her foot on one of the lower branches of the bush and climbed up in front of him. She pulled Buckbeak’s rope back over his neck and tied it to the other side of his collar like reins.</p><p>“Ready?” she whispered to Hermes. “You’d better hold on to me —”</p><p>She nudged Buckbeak’s sides with her heels.<br/>Buckbeak soared straight into the dark air. Harriet gripped her flanks with her knees, feeling the great wings rising powerfully beneath them. Hermes was holding Harriet very tight around the waist; she could hear him muttering, “Oh, no — I don’t like this — oh, I really don’t like this —”</p><p>Harriet urged Buckbeak forward. They were gliding quietly toward the upper floors of the castle... Harriet pulled hard on the left-hand side of the rope, and Buckbeak turned. Harriet was trying to count the windows flashing past —</p><p>“Whoa!” she said, pulling backward as hard as she could.</p><p>Buckbeak slowed down and they found themselves at a stop, unless you counted the fact that they kept rising up and down several feet as the hippogriff beat his wings to remain airborne.</p><p>“She’s there!” Harriet said, spotting Siri as they rose up beside the window. She reached out, and as Buckbeak’s wings fell, was able to tap sharply on the glass.</p><p>Black looked up. Harriet saw her jaw drop. She leapt from her chair, hurried to the window and tried to open it, but it was locked. </p><p>“Stand back!” Hermes called to her, and he took out his wand, still gripping the back of Harriet’s robes with his left hand.</p><p>“Alohomora!”</p><p>The window sprang open.</p><p>“How — how — ?” said Black weakly, staring at the hippogriff. </p><p>“Get on — there’s not much time,” said Harriet, gripping Buckbeak firmly on either side of his sleek neck to hold him steady. “You’ve got to get out of here — the dementors are coming — Macnair’s gone to get them.”</p><p>Black placed a hand on either side of the window frame and heaved her head and shoulders out of it. It was very lucky she was so thin. In seconds, she had managed to fling one leg over Buckbeak’s back and pull herself onto the hippogriff behind Hermes.</p><p>“Okay, Buckbeak, up!” said Harriet, shaking the rope. “Up to the tower — come on!”</p><p>The hippogriff gave one sweep of its mighty wings and they were soaring upward again, high as the top of the West Tower. Buckbeak landed with a clatter on the battlements, and Harriet and Hermes slid off him at once.</p><p>“Siri, you’d better go, quick,” Harriet panted. “They’ll reach Flitwick’s office any moment, they’ll find out you’re gone.”</p><p>Buckbeak pawed the ground, tossing his sharp head.</p><p>“What happened to the other girl? Ronnie?” croaked Siri.</p><p>“She’s going to be okay. She’s still out of it, but Master Pomfrey says he’ll be able to make her better. Quick — go —”</p><p>But Black was still staring down at Harriet. “How can I ever thank —”</p><p>“GO!” Harriet and Hermes shouted together.</p><p>Black wheeled Buckbeak around, facing the open sky.</p><p>“We’ll see each other again,” she said. “You are — truly your mother’s daughter, Harriet...”</p><p>She squeezed Buckbeak’s sides with her heels. Harriet and Hermes jumped back as the enormous wings rose once more... The hippogriff took off into the air... He and his rider became smaller and smaller as Harriet gazed after them... then a cloud drifted across the moon... They were gone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Owl Post Again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Harriet!”</p><p>Hermes was tugging at her sleeve, staring at his watch. “We’ve got exactly ten minutes to get back down to the hospital wing without anybody seeing us — before Dumbledore locks the door —”</p><p>“Okay,” said Harriet, wrenching her gaze from the sky, “let’s go...”</p><p>They slipped through the doorway behind them and down a tightly spiraling stone staircase. As they reached the bottom of it, they heard voices. They flattened themselves against the wall and listened. It sounded like Fudge and Prince. They were walking quickly along the corridor at the foot of the staircase.</p><p>“...only hope Dumbledore’s not going to make difficulties,” Prince was saying. “The Kiss will be performed immediately?”</p><p>“As soon as Macnair returns with the dementors. This whole Black affair has been highly embarrassing. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to informing the Daily Prophet that we’ve got her at last... I daresay they’ll want to interview you, Snape... and once young Harriet’s back in her right mind, I expect she’ll want to tell the Prophet exactly how you saved her...”</p><p>Harriet clenched her teeth. She caught a glimpse of Prince’s smirk as she and Fudge passed Harriet and Hermes’ hiding place. Their footsteps died away. Harriet and Hermes waited a few moments to make sure they’d really gone, then started to run in the opposite direction. Down one staircase, then another, along a new corridor — then they heard a cackling ahead.</p><p>“Peeves!” Harriet muttered, grabbing Hermes’ wrist. “In here!”</p><p>They tore into a deserted classroom to their left just in time. Peeves seemed to be bouncing along the corridor in boisterous good spirits, laughing his head off.</p><p>“Oh, he’s horrible,” whispered Hermes, her ear to the door. “I bet he’s all excited because the dementors are going to finish off Siri...” He checked his watch. “Three minutes, Harriet!”</p><p>They waited until Peeves’s gloating voice had faded into the distance, then slid back out of the room and broke into a run again.</p><p>“Hermes — what’ll happen — if we don’t get back inside — before Dumbledore locks the door?” Harriet panted.</p><p>“I don’t want to think about it!” Hermes moaned, checking his watch again. “One minute!”</p><p>They had reached the end of the corridor with the hospital wing entrance. “Okay — I can hear Dumbledore,” said Hermes tensely. “Come on, Harriet!”</p><p>They crept along the corridor. The door opened. Dumbledore’s back appeared.</p><p>“I am going to lock you in,” they heard her saying. “It is five minutes to midnight. Mr. Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck.”</p><p>Dumbledore backed out of the room, closed the door, and took out her wand to magically lock it. Panicking, Harriet and Hermes ran forward. Dumbledore looked up, and a wide smile appeared on her face. “Well?” she said quietly.</p><p>“We did it!” said Harriet breathlessly. “Siri has gone, on Buckbeak...”</p><p>Dumbledore beamed at them.</p><p>“Well done. I think —” She listened intently for any sound within the hospital wing. “Yes, I think you’ve gone too — get inside — I’ll lock you in —”</p><p>Harriet and Hermes slipped back inside the dormitory. It was empty except for Ronnie, who was still lying motionless in the end bed. As the lock clicked behind them, Harriet and Hermes crept back to their own beds, Hermes tucking the Time-Turner back under his robes. A moment later, Master Pomfrey came striding back out of his office.</p><p>“Did I hear the headmistress leaving? Am I allowed to look after my patients now?”</p><p>He was in a very bad mood. Harriet and Hermes thought it best to accept their chocolate quietly. Master Pomfrey stood over them, making sure they ate it. But Harriet could hardly swallow. She and Hermes were waiting, listening, their nerves jangling... And then, as they both took a fourth piece of chocolate from Master Pomfrey, they heard a distant roar of fury echoing from somewhere above them...</p><p>“What was that?” said Master Pomfrey in alarm.</p><p>Now they could hear angry voices, growing louder and louder. Master Pomfrey was staring at the door.</p><p>“Really — they’ll wake everybody up! What do they think they’re doing?”</p><p>Harriet was trying to hear what the voices were saying. They were drawing nearer —</p><p>“She must have Disapparated, Stevanie. We should have left somebody in the room with her. When this gets out —”</p><p>“SHE DIDN’T DISAPPARATE!” Prince roared, now very close at hand. “YOU CAN’T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS — HAS — SOMETHING — TO — DO — WITH — EVANS!”</p><p>“Stevanie — be reasonable — Harriet has been locked up —” BAM.</p><p>The door of the hospital wing burst open.</p><p>Fudge, Prince, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward.</p><p>Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, she looked as though she was quite enjoying herself. Fudge appeared angry. But Prince was beside herself.</p><p>“OUT WITH IT, EVANS!” she bellowed. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”</p><p>“Professor Prince!” shrieked Master Pomfrey. “Control yourself !”</p><p>“See here, Prince, be reasonable,” said Fudge. “This door’s been locked, we just saw —”</p><p>“THEY HELPED HER ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!” Prince howled, pointing at Harriet and Hermes. Her face was twisted; spit was flying from her mouth.</p><p>“Calm down, woman!” Fudge barked. “You’re talking nonsense!”</p><p>“YOU DON’T KNOW EVANS!” shrieked Prince. “SHE DID IT, I KNOW SHE DID IT —”</p><p>“That will do, Stevanie,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Master Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?”</p><p>“Of course not!” said Master Pomfrey, bristling. “I would have heard them!”</p><p>“Well, there you have it, Stevanie,” said Dumbledore calmly. “Unless you are suggesting that Harriet and Hermes are able to be in two places at once, I’m afraid I don’t see any point in troubling them further.”</p><p>Prince stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at her behavior, to Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling behind her glasses. Prince whirled about, robes swishing behind her, and stormed out of the ward.</p><p>“Fellow seems quite unbalanced,” said Fudge, staring after her. “I’d watch out for her if I were you, Dumbledore.”</p><p>“Oh, she’s not unbalanced,” said Dumbledore quietly. “She’s just suffered a severe disappointment.”</p><p>“She’s not the only one!” puffed Fudge. “The Daily Prophet’s going to have a field day! We had Black cornered and she slipped through our fingers yet again! All it needs now is for the story of that hippogriff’s escape to get out, and I’ll be a laughingstock! Well... I’d better go and notify the Ministry...”</p><p>“And the dementors?” said Dumbledore. “They’ll be removed from the school, I trust?”</p><p>“Oh yes, they’ll have to go,” said Fudge, running her fingers distractedly through her hair. “Never dreamed they’d attempt to administer the Kiss on an innocent girl... Completely out of control... no, I’ll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight... Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance...”</p><p>“Hagrid would like that,” said Dumbledore, smiling at Harriet and Hermes. As she and Fudge left the dormitory, Master Pomfrey hurried to the door and locked it again. Muttering angrily to himself, he headed back to his office.</p><p>There was a low moan from the other end of the ward. Ronnie had woken up. They could see her sitting up, rubbing her head, looking around.</p><p>“What — what happened?” she groaned. “Harriet? Why are we in here? Where’s Siri? Where’s Howell? What’s going on?”</p><p>Harriet and Hermes looked at each other.</p><p>“You explain,” said Harriet, helping herself to some more chocolate.</p><p>When Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes left the hospital wing at noon the next day, it was to find an almost deserted castle. The sweltering heat and the end of the exams meant that everyone was taking full advantage of another Hogsmeade visit. Neither Ronnie nor Hermes felt like going, however, so they and Harriet wandered onto the grounds, still talking about the extraordinary events of the previous night and wondering where Siri and Buckbeak were now. Sitting near the lake, watching the giant squid waving its tentacles lazily above the water, Harriet lost the thread of the conversation as she looked across to the opposite bank. The stag had galloped toward her from there just last night...</p><p>A shadow fell across them and they looked up to see a very bleary-eyed Hagrid, mopping her sweaty face with one of her tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs and beaming down at them.</p><p>“Know I shouldn’ feel happy, after wha’ happened las’ night,” she said. “I mean, Black escapin’ again, an’ everythin’ — but guess what?”</p><p>“What?” they said, pretending to look curious.</p><p>“Beaky! He escaped! He’s free! Bin celebratin’ all night!”</p><p>“That’s wonderful!” said Hermes, giving Ronnie a reproving look because she looked as though she was close to laughing.</p><p>“Yeah... can’t’ve tied him up properly,” said Hagrid, gazing happily out over the grounds. “I was worried this mornin’, mind... thought he mighta met Professor Howell on the grounds,<br/>but Howell says she never ate anythin’ las’ night...”</p><p>“What?” said Harriet quickly.</p><p>“Blimey, haven’ yeh heard?” said Hagrid, her smile fading a little.</p><p>She lowered her voice, even though there was nobody in sight. “Er — Prince told all the Slytherins this mornin’... Thought everyone’d know by now... Professor Howell’s a werewolf, see. An’ she was loose on the grounds las’ night... She’s packin’ now, o’ course.”</p><p>“She’s packing?” said Harriet, alarmed. “Why?”</p><p>“Leavin’, isn’ she?” said Hagrid, looking surprised that Harriet had to ask. “Resigned firs’ thing this mornin’. Says she can’t risk it happenin’ again.”</p><p>Harriet scrambled to her feet.</p><p>“I’m going to see him,” she said to Ronnie and Hermes. </p><p>“But if she’s resigned —”</p><p>“— doesn’t sound like there’s anything we can do —”</p><p>“I don’t care. I still want to see her. I’ll meet you back here.”</p><p>Howell’s office door was open. She had already packed most of her things. The grindylow’s empty tank stood next to her battered old suitcase, which was open and nearly full. Howell was bending over something on her desk and looked up only when Harriet knocked on the door.</p><p>“I saw you coming,” said Howell, smiling. She pointed to the parchment she had been poring over. It was the Marauder’s Map. </p><p>“I just saw Hagrid,” said Harriet. “And she said you’d resigned. It’s not true, is it?”</p><p>“I’m afraid it is,” said Howell. She started opening her desk drawers and taking out the contents.</p><p>“Why?” said Harriet. “The Ministry of Magic don’t think you were helping Siri, do they?”</p><p>Howell crossed to the door and closed it behind Harriet.</p><p>“No. Professor Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives.” She sighed. “That was the final straw for Stevanie. I think the loss of the Order of Merlin hit her hard. So she — er — accidentally let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast.”</p><p>“You’re not leaving just because of that!” said Harriet.</p><p>Howell smiled wryly.<br/>“This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents... They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harriet. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you... That must never happen again.”</p><p>“You’re the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had!” said Harriet. “Don’t go!”</p><p>Howell shook her head and didn’t speak. She carried on emptying her drawers. Then, while Harriet was trying to think of a good argument to make her stay, Howell said, “From what the headmistress told me this morning, you saved a lot of lives last night, Harriet. If I’m proud of anything I’ve done this year, it’s how much you’ve learned... Tell me about your Patronus.”</p><p>“How d’you know about that?” said Harriet, distracted.</p><p>“What else could have driven the dementors back?”</p><p>Harriet told Howell what had happened. When she’d finished, Howell was smiling again.</p><p>“Yes, your mother was always a stag when she transformed,” she said. “You guessed right... that’s why we called her Prongs.” Howell threw her last few books into her case, closed the desk drawers, and turned to look at Harriet.</p><p>“Here — I brought this from the Shrieking Shack last night,” she said, handing Harriet back the Invisibility Cloak. “And...” She hes- itated, then held out the Marauder’s Map too. “I am no longer your teacher, so I don’t feel guilty about giving you back this as well. It’s no use to me, and I daresay you, Ronnie, and Hermes will find uses for it.”</p><p>Harriet took the map and grinned.</p><p>“You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs would’ve wanted to lure me out of school... you said they’d have thought it was funny.”</p><p>“And so we would have,” said Howell, now reaching down to close his case. “I have no hesitation in saying that Jane would have been highly disappointed if her daughter had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle.”</p><p>There was a knock on the door. Harriet hastily stuffed the Marauder’s Map and the Invisibility Cloak into her pocket.</p><p>It was Professor Dumbledore. She didn’t look surprised to see Harriet there.</p><p>“Your carriage is at the gates, Rema,” she said.</p><p>“Thank you, Headmistress.”</p><p>Howell picked up her old suitcase and the empty grindylow tank. “Well — good-bye, Harriet,” she said, smiling. “It has been a<br/>real pleasure teaching you. I feel sure we’ll meet again sometime. Headmistress, there is no need to see me to the gates, I can manage...”</p><p>Harriet had the impression that Howell wanted to leave as quickly as possible.</p><p>“Good-bye, then, Rema,” said Dumbledore soberly. Howell shifted the grindylow tank slightly so that she and Dumbledore could shake hands. Then, with a final nod to Harriet and a swift smile, Howell left the office.</p><p>Harriet sat down in her vacated chair, staring glumly at the floor. She heard the door close and looked up. Dumbledore was still there.</p><p>“Why so miserable, Harriet?” she said quietly. “You should be very proud of yourself after last night.”</p><p>“It didn’t make any difference,” said Harriet bitterly. “Pettigrew got away.”</p><p>“Didn’t make any difference?” said Dumbledore quietly. “It made all the difference in the world, Harriet. You helped uncover the truth. You saved an innocent woman from a terrible fate.”</p><p>Terrible. Something stirred in Harriet’s memory. Greater and more terrible than ever before... Professor Trelawney’s prediction!</p><p>“Professor Dumbledore — yesterday, when I was having my Divination exam, Professor Trelawney went very — very strange.”</p><p>“Indeed?” said Dumbledore. “Er — stranger than usual, you mean?”</p><p>“Yes... his voice went all deep and his eyes rolled and he said... he said Voldemort’s servant was going to set out to return to him before midnight... He said the servant would help him come back to power.” Harriet stared up at Dumbledore. “And then he sort of became normal again, and he couldn’t remember anything he’s said. Was it — was he making a real prediction?”</p><p>Dumbledore looked mildly impressed.</p><p>“Do you know, Harriet, I think he might have been,” she said thoughtfully. “Who’d have thought it? That brings his total of real predictions up to two. I should offer her a pay raise...”</p><p>“But —” Harriet looked at her, aghast. How could Dumbledore take this so calmly?</p><p>“But — I stopped Siri and Professor Howell from killing Pettigrew! That makes it my fault if Voldemort comes back!”</p><p>“It does not,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Hasn’t your experience with the Time-Turner taught you anything, Harriet? The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is a very difficult business indeed... Professor Trelawney, bless him, is living proof of that... You did a very noble thing, in saving Pettigrew’s life.”</p><p>“But if she helps Voldemort back to power — !”</p><p>“Pettigrew owes her life to you. You have sent Voldemort a deputy who is in your debt... When one wizard saves another wizard’s life, it creates a certain bond between them... and I’m much mistaken if Voldemort wants his servant in the debt of Harriet Evans.”</p><p>“I don’t want a connection with Pettigrew!” said Harriet. “She betrayed my parents!”</p><p>“This is magic at its deepest, its most impenetrable, Harriet. But trust me... the time may come when you will be very glad you saved Pettigrew’s life.”</p><p>Harriet couldn’t imagine when that would be. Dumbledore looked as though she knew what Harriet was thinking.</p><p>“I knew your mother very well, both at Hogwarts and later, Harriet,” she said gently. “She would have saved Pettigrew too, I am sure of it.”</p><p>Harriet looked up at her. Dumbledore wouldn’t laugh — she could tell Dumbledore...</p><p>“I thought it was my mum who’d conjured my Patronus. I mean, when I saw myself across the lake... I thought I was seeing her.” </p><p>“An easy mistake to make,” said Dumbledore softly. “I expect you’ll tire of hearing it, but you do look extraordinarily like Jane. Except for the eyes... you have your father’s eyes.”</p><p>Harriet shook her head.</p><p>“It was stupid, thinking it was her,” she muttered. “I mean, I knew she was dead.”</p><p>“You think the dead we loved ever truly leave us? You think that we don’t recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your mother is alive in you, Harriet, and shows herself most plainly when you have need of her. How else could you produce that particular Patronus? Prongs rode again last night.”</p><p>It took a moment for Harriet to realize what Dumbledore had said.</p><p>“Last night Siri told me all about how they became Animagi,” said Dumbledore, smiling. “An extraordinary achievement — not least, keeping it quiet from me. And then I remembered the most unusual form your Patronus took, when it charged Miss Black down at your Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. You know, Harriet, in a way, you did see your mother last night... You found her inside yourself.”</p><p>And Dumbledore left the office, leaving Harriet to her very confused thoughts.</p><p>Nobody at Hogwarts now knew the truth of what had happened the night that Siri, Buckbeak, and Pettigrew had vanished except Harriet, Ronnie, Hermes, and Professor Dumbledore. As the end of term approached, Harriet heard many different theories about what had really happened, but none of them came close to the truth.</p><p>Dahlia Black was furious about Buckbeak. She was convinced that Hagrid had found a way of smuggling the hippogriff to safety, and seemed outraged that she and her mother had been outwitted by a gamekeeper. Penelope Prewett, meanwhile, had much to say on the subject of Siri’s escape.</p><p>“If I manage to get into the Ministry, I’ll have a lot of proposals to make about Magical Law Enforcement!” she told the only person who would listen — her boyfriend, Percy.</p><p>Though the weather was perfect, though the atmosphere was so cheerful, though she knew they had achieved the near impossible in helping Siri to freedom, Harriet had never approached the end of a school year in worse spirits.</p><p>She certainly wasn’t the only one who was sorry to see Professor Howell go. The whole of Harriet’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class was miserable about her resignation.</p><p>“Wonder what they’ll give us next year?” said Sinead Finnigan gloomily.</p><p>“Maybe a vampire,” suggested Dinah Thomas hopefully.</p><p>It wasn’t only Professor Howell’s departure that was weighing on Harriet’s mind. She couldn’t help thinking a lot about Professor Trelawney’s prediction. She kept wondering where Pettigrew was now, whether she had sought sanctuary with Voldemort yet. But the thing that was lowering Harriet’s spirits most of all was the prospect of returning to the Evans’. For maybe half an hour, a glorious half hour, she had believed she would be living with Siri from now on... her parents’ best friend... It would have been the next best thing to having her own mother back. And while no news of Siri was definitely good news, because it meant she had successfully gone into hiding, Harriet couldn’t help feeling miserable when she thought of the home she might have had, and the fact that it was now impossible.</p><p>The exam results came out on the last day of term. Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermes had passed every subject. Harriet was amazed that she had got through Potions. She had a shrewd suspicion that Dumbledore might have stepped in to stop Prince failing her on purpose. Prince’s behavior toward Harriet over the past week had been quite alarming. Harriet wouldn’t have thought it possible that Prince’s dislike for her could increase, but it certainly had. A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Prince’s thin mouth every time she looked at Harriet, and she was constantly flexing her fingers, as though itching to place them around Harriet’s throat.</p><p>Penelope had got her top-grade N.E.W.T.s; Frankie and Georgina had scraped a handful of O.W.L.s each. Gryffindor House, meanwhile, largely thanks to their spectacular performance in the Quidditch Cup, had won the House championship for the third year running. This meant that the end of term feast took place amid decorations of scarlet and gold, and that the Gryffindor table was the noisiest of the lot, as everybody celebrated. Even Harriet managed to forget about the journey back to the Evans’ the next day as she ate, drank, talked, and laughed with the rest.</p><p>As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next morning, Hermes gave Harriet and Ronnie some surprising news.</p><p>“I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I’ve decided to drop Muggle Studies.”</p><p>“But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!” said Ronnie.</p><p>“I know,” sighed Hermes, “but I can’t stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I’ve handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I’ll be able to have a normal schedule again.”</p><p>“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell us about it,” said Ronnie grumpily. “We’re supposed to be your friends.”</p><p>“I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone,” said Hermes severely. He looked around at Harriet, who was watching Hogwarts disappear from view behind a mountain. Two whole months before she’d see it again...</p><p>“Oh, cheer up, Harriet!” said Hermes sadly.</p><p>“I’m okay,” said Harriet quickly. “Just thinking about the holidays.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about them too,” said Ronnie. “Harriet, you’ve got to come and stay with us. I’ll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I’ll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now —”</p><p>“A telephone, Ronnie,” said Hermes. “Honestly, you should take Muggle Studies next year...”</p><p>Ronnie ignored him.</p><p>“It’s the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harriet? Come and stay, and we’ll go and see it! Mum can usually get tickets from work.”</p><p>This proposal had the effect of cheering Harriet up a great deal.</p><p>“Yeah... I bet the Evans’ would be pleased to let me come... especially after what I did to Uncle Mark...”</p><p>Feeling considerably more cheerful, Harriet joined Ronnie and Hermes in several games of Exploding Snap, and when the witch with the tea cart arrived, she bought himself a very large lunch, though nothing with chocolate in it.</p><p>But it was late in the afternoon before the thing that made her truly happy turned up...</p><p>“Harriet,” said Hermes suddenly, peering over her shoulder. “What’s that thing outside your window?”</p><p>Harriet turned to look outside. Something very small and gray was bobbing in and out of sight beyond the glass. She stood up for a better look and saw that it was a tiny owl, carrying a letter that was much too big for it. The owl was so small, in fact, that it kept tumbling over in the air, buffeted this way and that in the train’s slipstream. Harriet quickly pulled down the window, stretched out her arm, and caught it. It felt like a very fluffy Snitch. She brought it carefully inside. The owl dropped its letter onto Harriet’s seat and began zooming around their compartment, apparently very pleased with itself for accomplishing its task. Hedwig clicked her beak with a sort of dignified disapproval. Crookshanks sat up in his seat, following the owl with his great yellow eyes. Ronnie, noticing this, snatched the owl safely out of harm’s way.</p><p>Harriet picked up the letter. It was addressed to her. She ripped open the letter, and shouted, “It’s from Siri!”</p><p>“What?” said Ronnie and Hermes excitedly. “Read it loud!”</p><p>‘Dear Harriet,</p><p>I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle.</p><p>I don’t know whether they’re used to owl post.<br/>Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won’t tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job.</p><p>I believe the dementors are still searching for me, but they haven’t a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted.<br/>There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt —‘</p><p>“Ha!” said Hermes triumphantly. “See! I told you it was from her!”</p><p>“Yes, but she hadn’t jinxed it, had she?” said Ronnie. “Ouch!” The tiny owl, now hooting happily in her hand, had nibbled one of her fingers in what it seemed to think was an affectionate way.</p><p>‘Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays’ worth of presents from your godmother.</p><p>I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you that night last year when you left your uncle’s house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you.<br/>I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable.</p><p>If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me.</p><p>I’ll write again soon. Siri’</p><p>Harriet looked eagerly inside the envelope. There was another piece of parchment in there. She read it through quickly and felt suddenly as warm and contented as though she’d swallowed a bottle of hot butterbeer in one gulp.</p><p>‘I, Siri Black, Harriet Evans’ godmother, hereby give her permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends.’</p><p>“That’ll be good enough for Dumbledore!” said Harriet happily. She looked back at Siri’s letter.</p><p>“Hang on, there’s a P.S...”</p><p>‘I thought your friend Ronnie might like to keep this owl, as it’s my fault she no longer has a rat.’</p><p>Ronnie’s eyes widened. The minute owl was still hooting excitedly.</p><p>“Keep him?” she said uncertainly. She looked closely at the owl for a moment; then, to Harriet’s and Hermes’ great surprise, she held her out for Crookshanks to sniff.</p><p>“What do’you reckon?” Ronnie asked the cat. “Definitely an owl?” Crookshanks purred.</p><p>“That’s good enough for me,” said Ronnie happily. “He’s mine.” Harriet read and reread the letter from Siri all the way back into<br/>King’s Cross station. It was still clutched tightly in her hand as she, Ronnie, and Hermes stepped back through the barrier of platform nine and three-quarters. Harriet spotted Aunt Verona at once. She was standing a good distance from Mr. and Mrs Prewett, eyeing them suspiciously, and when Mrs Prewett hugged Harriet in greeting, her worst suspicions about them seemed confirmed.</p><p>“I’ll call about the World Cup!” Ronnie yelled after Harriet as Harriet bid her and Hermes good-bye, then wheeled the trolley bearing her trunk and Hedwig’s cage toward Aunt Verona, who greeted her in her usual fashion.</p><p>“What’s that?” she snarled, staring at the envelope Harriet was still clutching in her hand. “If it’s another form for me to sign, you’ve got another —”</p><p>“It’s not,” said Harriet cheerfully. “It’s a letter from my godmother.”</p><p>“Godmother?” sputtered Aunt Verona. “You haven’t got a godmother!”</p><p>“Yes, I have,” said Harriet brightly. “She was my mum and dad’s best friend. She’s a convicted murderer, but she’s broken out of wizard prison and she’s on the run. She likes to keep in touch with me, though... keep up with my news... check if I’m happy...”</p><p>And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Aunt Verona’s face, Harriet set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of her, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Read the first book in the series: Harriet Evans and the Philosopher’s Stone -<br/>https://archiveofourown.org/works/20652788</p><p>Read the second book in the series: Harriet Evans and the Chamber of Secrets - https://archiveofourown.org/works/21044717</p><p>Read the next book in the series: Harriet Evans and the Goblet of Fire - https://archiveofourown.org/works/28771524</p></blockquote></div></div>
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